Family Resemblance
by Cheryl W
Summary: Reimagining of my Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– The Brits have TC on their hit list but when Dean intervenes he comes face to face with his clone Alec. No slash.
1. 1: They Are Us

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Reimagining of my Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– The Brits have TC on their hit list but when Dean intervenes he comes face to face with his clone Alec. No slash.

Author's Notes: Ok so I love Alec and the brothers together but I couldn't seem to get in the old head space of Season 3 of SN or figure out how their dynamics played out in the current seasons of SN so we're starting over fresh in Season 12. As far as Dark Angel timeline, it really picks up at the end of the series where everyone's at TC but this time the world doesn't know they exist.

I've had some requests to continue my snda crossover storylines and I'm sorry I couldn't do that exactly but I guess this is my hope that this redo in some small way honors those requests. So, not knowing if anyone wants to read this Redo that got in my head…here we go.

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Chapter 1: They are Us

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They weren't shapeshifters, no matter what Mick and his merry band of Brit Men of Letters said. No flashing eyes in the camera light, no pain at the touch of silver and no skin shedding unless they kept foolishly coming back to their same old faces over and over instead of claiming new ones, ones that could fit in with a crowd instead of having them run away shrieking in fear.

But it wasn't a snipe hunt either. He had seen some of their faces and they weren't human. So yeah, monsters but what kind and what was their threat because over the week that Dean had staked out Terminal City, the only crime he witnessed was them getting oriental food two days in a row and not picking a less noxious hideout. I mean an abandoned nuclear plant…that was so on the nose for zombie movies it was just dumb.

And sometime soon the men of letters were going to wipe these poor schmucks off the face of the earth. So yeah, his Dad had raised him with the belief that there was no such thing as a good monster, that they all needed …. _deserved_ to be put down. But his Dad had been wrong, like the Brits were. Dean knew he'd be dead …ok, dead again like twenty times more, if it hadn't been for his alliance even friendship with said monsters. Benny ranking at the top, followed by, yes, Crowley then there was Garth and his wolf out tendencies, Ansel and his psychic abilities, heck even Cas wasn't liked by the Brit Men of Letters. Course Cas was the best of the angels so maybe he shouldn't waste his breath defending the other angels to Mick and company.

All this left Dean sitting in a forsaken office building across from the self-named Terminal City wondering what to do about the newest crappy crisis of conscience he found himself in. He knew he wouldn't be able to convince the douche bag Brits to let these "shapeshifters" in peace. He also didn't allow himself to fantasize that Sam and his Mom would side with him either, they didn't seem capable of that feat.

Cursing under his breath, Dean was about to surge out of the one good chair in the dilapidated room and go for a drive to clear his head when he sensed he wasn't alone. In one motion he pulled his gun, stood up and spun to face his visitor. But then he all out froze. The face staring back at him was his…but not. This version of him was years younger, his face…its face didn't carry the strain of stress and years on it. But the eyes that met his, they almost seemed older than his own, like they had seen worse things than he had, and that was saying something.

Then his twenty year old double smiled the smile that Dean no longer had in his repertoire: The brassy, bold, sexy, I-can-handle-anything stunning smile. Lazily, his double leaned against the far wall, arms crossed as if he didn't have a care in the world, drawled with a twinkle in his eyes now. "Watch it. You don't want to get jumpy and accidently mar this genetic mastery of beauty."

Dean realized it…he…had his young voice down too, and his friggin' swagger that he had misplaced over the years. "I don't get jumpy," he growled back, gun as steady as a rock aimed at his double's heart, silver bullet locked and loaded for shapeshifter hunting, which he might have mistakenly thought this was not.

His double narrowed his eyes. "If you say so but you look a little unhinged, which honestly, I don't get. You looked for me…you _found_ me, so why do you look so surprised that I look like you?"

"Yeah like I was supposed to guess you were lame enough to wear my face!" Dean denied heatedly, feeling nine kinds of stupid that the Brits were right somehow and he had been too blind to accept their intel, no, too biased.

The shifter's confidence started to peter out at that, and he gave up the leaning position to take a step toward Dean, causing Dean's finger to tighten on the trigger. "Whoa, now. Easy. This is the only face I have. If you don't like it….though, you of all people _should_ like it…."

Dean harshly cut him off. "So what? You're saying you aren't a shapeshifter?!"

"A what?" His double shot back with enough confusion to make Dean consider him either a grade A actor or…really as lost in this situation as he was.

Loosening some of the pressure on the trigger, Dean watched his double over the barrel of his gun. "Your other cult buddies aren't shifters. You a stray?"

"I've been called worse but it doesn't apply in this case. I am…as you call them…just like my other cult buddies. Though some can morph into other animals, let me tell you, it's a gag inducing sight. Not something you do at parties."

"So you looking like me, you wanna explain that?" Dean demanded, was getting a weird dread in the pit of his stomach.

The question had the double paling. "You really didn't know anything about me? Weren't looking for me?"

"I came to gather intel on your freak community. I didn't know I'd been running into a younger version of myself."

"Younger and better version, actually," the double cockily corrected but by Dean's cold stare the man wasn't going to acknowledge that any time soon. Sighing, he explained, "Ok, in case you aren't bullcrapping me…I'll recap the situation for those slow to understand." Recognizing that his insult was causing Dean to rethink his notion of shooting him, he cut to the chase. "Someone stole your DNA, Dean Winchester, swirled that and some feline DNA in a petri dish and, presto magic, here I am. Some would say I'm a Chinese knockoff of you but come on, look at me?! I'm not second rate by any standards," he couldn't help brag.

The information was slamming into Dean like doing a header into a cement wall…and he so knew how that felt first hand. "Wait, are you saying….you are a clone. My clone? With my DNA. You're a Frankenstein creature in my image? But how? I don't give blood donations and I sure didn't join the "let's build your own freak" club."

"Ok, that was a little harsh. Freak? This body? This face?" The clone protested. "Don't hate on yourself like that."

But Dean's patience was at an end for this science fair bullcrap. Rushing forward, he slammed the clone against the wall and pressed his gun barrel into its chest and bit out. "How. Did. They. Get. My. DNA?!"

Sensing that the time for not taking Dean's deadliness seriously was in the past, the clone suddenly stilled under Dean's hands and answered Dean's inquiries truthfully. "Colonel Lydecker, friend of your father's. He got it."

Dean swallowed hard because that made sick sense, was plausible …well as plausible as cloning humans was. Course the proof was under his hands, staring back at him, wasn't it. "My blood…I was just a kid, got clawed up by a possessed cougar."

"Clawed by a what now?!" the clone questioned, brows creased in disbelief that he had heard the other man correctly.

Dean found himself starting to explain, "Possessed Cougar. This ghost could …never mind. So you're a junior version of me. Why? The colonel couldn't have a mini-soldier like my dad had in me so he got jealous? Started going all Mary Shelley?"

"Call it in his job description. Place Lydecker worked for, Manticore, was in the business of making super soldiers. Guess he saw something in you that he liked."

"Wow, that's all ways creepy and ….gives me the willies." Dean gave a shiver of revulsion before he put that mental picture in his do-not-open-ever mental Rolex and got back to the present disturbing info. "So the others in Terminal City…"

"Experiments, like me. Some with more animal DNA than mine," the clone supplied, gaining hope that his DNA doner would soon remove his gun barrel from his chest.

"More animal DNA?! That's why some are….furry and …other disturbing things?"

"Yeah. I think I lucked out with feline DNA. I mean, who doesn't like long naps, having an acute sense of smell, able to see at night, have the ability to jump high and…"

"Have fleas and cough up fur balls?" Dean interjected but if he hoped it would get his clone angry he was disappointed. Instead the clone smirked.

"Only on Wednesdays. Bath day you know."

But Dean was stuck on the details of this crazy tale, even for Winchester's sense of crazy. "Hold up. I don't see any of you being soldiery let alone super. Unless eating take out is your super power."

The clone shrugged. "Yeah, well, we revolted, took down Manticore, ran for the hills and holed up at the extravagant hotel Terminal City. So no more missions to save the world…just one last one to try and save ourselves." At that declaration, Dean saw some crack in the clone's bravado, something that spoke to Dean and his own need to keep him and Sam and the ones he loved safe from a very unsafe and unloving world.

Then the Clone was trying to regain his devil may care persona. "Needless to say, we wouldn't be a welcome addition to the species list so we're not doing any tell all talks on Oprah."

"Oprah's off the air," Dean deadpanned back.

The clone huffed in indignation, "You get my point."

Finding he trusted the clone's words, Dean uncocked the gun and lowered it. "Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you haven't stayed under the radar as well as you thought you did."

"Why, because you found me…us?" the clone challenged, confidence that his DNA donor wasn't a threat to him…or his kind. Didn't know where this faith in the man before him came from but it was there. Maybe that's the way a kid felt about his parents, that they were connected, wouldn't purposefully do one another harm. ' _Course what would you know about family connections?! The last family you witnessed you purposefully shattered apart,'_ the clone chastised himself for again forgetting what he was, and what he wasn't. The sins he couldn't atone for, no matter how hard he tried to pretend he wasn't a monster.

"I'm the least of your problems," Dean darkly predicted. "There's this group, the British Men of Letters and they know about your hideaway."

"So what, are they going to do a BBC production about us?" The clone laughingly taunted before adopting a thick british accent. "Shou'd I wor' on my British accent, gov'n'r."

"No, you jerk. They hunt and kill monsters and you're next on their to-do list," Dean growled, needed the kid to start taking things seriously and fast.

"And you know this how?" his clone challenged, dark suspicions growing fast in his gut.

Dean shifted on his feet, shame carrying in his next words. "I kinda sort of have been doing jobs for them." Hating himself for that more in that moment than before, like he was sick at losing some of his clone's good opinion of him…if he had such a thing before.

The clone tensed. "Jobs like annihilating anything different from human standards?"

Dean smart mouthed back, "Only on the weekends," wanting to ease the tension, knew it would blow up in his face whenever he tried it on Sam.

But his clone didn't blowup…he laughed. "Touche," he smirked, appreciated their like-minded sense of humor amid the most awkward situations even as his next sentence proved that he read the hard core soul under Dean's humor. "So what? You're the advance scout? Now will kill me to keep me quiet so I can't warn the others what's coming for them?"

Dean flinched at his clone's predictions, because that's what he had volunteered to do, to be the Brit's advance scout. But not to set Terminal City up to be eliminated, to see for _himself_ if they needed eliminated. And if they didn't….heck, he was just starting to formulate what to do now that that seemed the case.

But before he could explain that to his clone, another male voice entered the conversation, causing him and his clone to jerk their heads to the door to see the room's second uninvited guest cross the threshold.

"You aren't going to be reporting back to those British Men of Letters. Actually, you're not leaving this room," the voice vowed that belonged to a humanoid figure with the brown and white spotted fur of a cheetah covering his animalist face and hands that were displaying claws worthy of Wolverine. Then with the speed that his cheetah DNA gifted him with, he sprang for Dean, teeth and claws bared and excited to tear apart fragile human flesh.

Even as Dean raised his gun, he knew he was going to be too slow, his reflex's no match for a freakin' Cheetah man. Bracing himself for a repeat of what the hellhounds did to him, he vowed to not scream this go around when his clone was suddenly between him and certain death.

Then it is his clone that the cheetah man's teeth and claws find. Seconds later, they are on the floor, wrestling for survival, growls emanating from both "men". Unwilling to stand idly by, Dean pulled a knife free of his boot and joined the fray. But he was instantly knocked backward by a flaying leg before he can strike a blow. Slamming into the wall, he bit back a cry of pain then pushed himself off the wall and determinedly approached the tangled limbs of the two clones on the floor. But he knew that he was a second to late plunging the knife into the Cheetah man's neck when he heard his clone cry out in agony, watched as the Cheetah man's razor sharp teeth sink into his clone's neck.

Ripping the knife free and watching the Cheetah man collapse dead onto his clone, Dean dropped to his knees and started to gently yet urgently pry the Cheetah's teeth from his clone's neck. Found the clone's hands joining his own before the locked jaw hinged open and Dean was able to roll the Cheetah dude from off his clone. Cursing at the sight of the gushing blood coming from the bite marks, Dean clamped his hand down on the puncture wounds on his clone's neck. "What the hell were you thinking?!" he roared, eyes searing into his clone's pained hued gaze.

"Saving …you," his clone choked out, fighting for breath as he continued to bleed out.

"You don't even know me! You thought I was going to kill you two seconds ago!" Dean pointed out savagely as he pressed harder on the wound, without knowing why, he desperately didn't want this look alike to die.

But his clone wasn't showing any regret for his actions, was holding Dean's gaze with unexpected fondness. "Figured…in some….screwed up way….we are… brothers."

The clone's sentiment pierced right through Dean's toughest fortifications…eerily like Sam always could. "Crap, just hold on! It's not that bad," the lie he told Sam in Cold Oak coming easily. Pressing harder, hoping to slow the blood flow he tried to distract his clone from the pain he knew he was in, thanks to his own hellhound run in years prior. "So if we're brothers, I should at least know your name."

"Alec…short for…Smart Aleck," his clone wheezed out.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, I can see the sense in that." Lifting his hand he tried to inspect the wound and hoped he didn't pale as much as he felt he did at the sight of the savage wound and his clone's survival chances he just calculated. Meeting his clone's…Alec's gaze head on, he calmly announced, "Ok, we have to get you to a hospital."

But panic flared in Alec's eyes. "Can't…what I am…."

Dean put a reassuring hand on Alec's chest. "Trust me, Alec. I know about avoiding hospitals like they are the plague but we've got no choice, ok. But it there's one thing my family's pretty good out besides the family business, it's knowing when it's time to leave before your accommodations get downgraded to a jail cell…or, in your case, you becoming a notch on Ketch's gun belt.

"Who… is… Ketch?" Alec asked, though he knew it didn't matter, didn't have much hope he'd survive the night let alone have to worry about getting out of the hospital with his DNA particularities undetected.

"Brit's top monster exterminator. He's got zero sense of humor but he's really good at killing things," Dean grimly admitted as he raised Alec's hands to his wound. "Ok, press there for me." Then when he felt Alec obeying, Dean stripped off his coat and his button down shirt and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. Then he was lifting Alec's hand, pressing the handkerchief in its place and replaced Alec's hold. Then he wound his button down shirt around Alec's neck and tied it in place to hold the makeshift bandage in place, hated that Alec whimpered in pain as he tied the knot tight.

Then Dean slid his hands behind Alec's back and legs and picked the younger version of himself up into his arms. For once Dean understood why Sam always griped that he needed to lose weight when he had to heft his carcass around because he was heavy! Knew it wasn't the lack of pain that action caused that kept a cry of pain from escaping Alec but his clone's stubborn refusal to be weak. ' _Like DNA donor, like clone_ ,' Dean commiserated then was making his way out of the room and down the flight of stairs toward the Impala parked around back. "So any more clones of me running around?" he conversationally asked.

"Were…but… the rest …are dead," Alec supplied, though his words were terse, either because he hated the topic or was in agony….probably both.

"Best clone takes all?" Dean guessed, nearly avoiding catching Alec's legs on the door frame as he exited onto the parking lot.

"What?" Alec asked in confusion before he got Dean's meaning. "No…none died by…my hand."

"Because they were your brothers," Dean surmised as he gently dropped Alec's legs so the clone could come to a standing lean against the side of the Impala. Opening the locked door with one hand, Dean kept his clone upright with his arm around Alec's waist.

"Not …brothers!" Alec huffed in indignation, braced himself with a hand on Dean's shoulder and stood his ground as Dean went to manhandle him into the black car. He met his DNA donor's eyes, felt it was important to make sure there was no misunderstanding about this. "They were…raving lunatics. Bad brews before they got it…right with me."

"Modest, aren't you," Dean teased as he tugged Alec's hand from his shoulder and eased the injured clone into the Impala's passenger seat with much of the same gentleness he always managed with an injured Sam.

"Just stating…facts," Alec defended but Dean had already shut the car door, was running for the driver's side.

Then Dean was in the car, starting the engine, gunning the car into a skilled back around and speeding forward maneuver the next second. Then with one hand on the steering wheel, he reached out his right hand to clamp around Alec's wound as he noted the dark hue of the makeshift bandage indicated blood already soaked through the two layer fabric. Eyes divided between road and clone, Dean implored, "Stay with me, Alec. Stay with me."

Rolling his head on the head rest to view his DNA donor, Alec tried to sound nonchalant, like he didn't know already that this was probably his last hurrah. "Aawww…I knew…you'd like me…if we ever met." And that wasn't exactly true, thought his DNA donor would hate him on sight. Didn't envision the gunplay exactly, more like streaming and shrieking and being brained by a frying pan maybe. Certainly not Dean's….acceptance, …his current concern. It made something in Alec spark alive even as he knew his life was ending.

Eyes shifting from the road back to Alec, Dean asked, his voice more vulnerable than he intended, "That something you wanted? Us to meet?"

"Sure…especially on…Hallmark's Clone Donor Day," Alec smart mouthed, hoping to live up to his name to the bitter end.

"Whoever named you Alec had your number," Dean shot back not with censure but approval of Alec's brand of humor when everything seemed it's bleakest.

"A hot girl… with anger issues…gave it.. to me," Alec supplied, felt a pang of regret he wouldn't be seeing Max again but maybe she wouldn't even realize he was gone. But then his brain kicked in and he tensed, tried to sit up, "I have to…warn them. You said…"

But Dean's hand slid to his chest, pressed him back to sink deep into the seat again. "We'll warn them. We have a couple days…maybe a few weeks to relocate them."

For Alec it wasn't expected, to feel this relief, wasn't his style to trust, at all, let alone so completely. Then a word repeated in his head, "We?" he asked, studied the profile of his DNA donor before Dean turned his attention again to him and smiled.

"Yeah…we…unless you're gonna take the chicken's way out and die on me," Dean challenged, needed Alec to fight, to not go, had hopes that this clone might actually _like_ spending time with him, unlike his brother and mother lately.

Alec fought to pull on a smile. "I'm happy…to say…got no chicken…in my cocktail."

"Does that mean you're not going to give up on me?" Dean cross-examined, wanted to make Alec promise to stay, for Alec to not be another loss he had to suffer, another failure to add to his tally.

And the only one that had ever asked Alec to stick around was Max…and that was probably more to do with needing numbers to take on Manticore than actually wanting _him_ there. But Dean…his request was different, felt different, felt real, personal. Garnered from him a vow he didn't even know if it was in his power to keep. "Yeah..won't."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Dean sternly shot back, wasn't all that reassured when only silence was Alec's reply. Looking over to his right, he saw the clone was passed out cold, the blood still seeping from the wound under his hand the only proof that he wasn't chaffering a dead clone of himself in his car.

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TBC

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I hope I have some people out there willing to give this story a shot.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	2. 2: Learned Traits

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Reimagining of my Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– The Brits have TC on their hit list but when Dean intervenes he comes face to face with his clone Alec. No slash.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the warm welcome for this story! I've decided to mash up season 12's timeline a bit. So things will happen in a different way than the true season so I can sneak Alec into the episodes that took my fancy. All you'll need to know is the BMOL intro into the Winchester's life is going to be different. It was a tame, knock on the bunker door, an invitation speech by Mick and Mary jumped on board. But like the true season storyline, Sam joined a little later and Dean reluctantly did too only because Sam wanted him to. Okay now onto the story.

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Chapter 2: Learned Traits

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Dean had filled out a patient information form probably a little shy of twenty times for Sam. It was rote; only thing that deviated was Sam's last name and the growing list of prior surgeries. But as he watched them hurriedly roll Alec down the ER hallway, he was blindsided by the nurse handing that all so boring form to _him_. Like he knew Alec…like Alec wasn't just a stranger wearing his face. A stranger whose blood still stained his hands, his jacket and the Impala's precious interior.

Heck he didn't even know the clone's last name. It was only by luck that the nurse handed him Alec's possessions of a wallet, a broken cell phone (because blood couldn't be seeped out with rice), a pocket knife (which Dean had to give the kid props, it had a fine balance to it), a leather coat now seasoned with a few Wolverine like claw marks and a comb, because even a copy of him knew looking good was always important. So yeah, he had a photo ID in there and it said Alec McDowell but Dean knew that could be as much Alec's legal last name as Plant was Sam's. But he rolled with it, didn't have much choice if the hospital asked for corresponding ID.

The rest of the info he BSed his way through even as he wondered what the real answers were. How old was Alec? Did he want someone listed as his emergency contact? Should he be trying to get a call through to someone at Terminal City so they could be there for Alex? Did the clone have any past surgeries, injuries that should be listed? Genealogy health history Dean could plug in. Nope, no cancer in the family genes. Too bad they didn't have a category for Death by Demons, that would have been true down the line for the Campbells and the Winchesters.

For Insurance, Dean pulled out his latest fraudulent card and entered those fields quick enough and included that card and a credit card back to the nurse's station before resuming his seat. And then the waiting began and he hated it. Hated that he honestly didn't know if he'd ever see the kid alive again and hated more that it made him feel something. He didn't owe this kid…this _clone_ anything. What Alec had gotten from him had been stolen, not bestowed. It was a violation, a thievery…so why did he care about Alec like he meant something to him?!

' _Damn it, the kid saved my life, might die for his efforts. Then there's the fact that I've gone soft_!' Dean cursed himself as he leaned back in the chair until his head rested against the wall. He just never learned. He always let people in and hoped, believed, needed to believe that this time it would be different, this time they would heal a part of what was broken in him. But it never failed to be the direct opposite of that, instead he ended up giving them the friggin' keys to just ruin him. His mom, case in point. She just….bailed on him, Sam too, like they were strangers. Worse, sacrilegious imposters to her _real sons_. The cute, innocent, virtuous sons still alive in her memories. But not who he was, Sam was anymore, not since she had burned on that ceiling thirty some years ago.

' _And Alec will see the same thing she did. What a disappointment you are. That you are nothing like he expected, dreamed you would be. Aren't the dutiful, proficient tactical soldier Lydecker thought you were at eight or could become under John Winchester's tutelage, thought Alec would become under his own.'_ And did he really need to stick around and see another person write him off? Did he need his friggin' clone adding to the Dean Winchester sucks club?

The answer was a resounding no. Enough people hated him, including himself on most days. And it was so pathetic that there was just a sliver of hope that kept him routed in the chair that Alec would be the exception to the rule. Would just maybe see him with the love blinded goggles that Sam tended to. Would find something in him to like? At the very least, Alec should agree with him that the British Men of Letters sucked and shouldn't be trusted. Like at all. And wasn't that worth a few hours in a hard plastic chair to gain another ally on his side? Especially since it was currently him versus his mother and Sam on that count?

Before he could commit his path either way, he dug his phone out, sought out his touchstone of common sense. Though he couldn't come out and text, ' _Hey Sam, met my clone today. He has better hair than you do or I did when I was his age. Should I adopt him or tell him to lose my number? What do you think_?' he decided to start with "My gig is boring? How's life at hunting corporate headquarters?" but he didn't send it. Did the backspace key, muted his phone and slide it back into his pocket because somehow Sam would know something was up with him, even at that small contact. His brother was too perceptive for his own good, especially when it came to his big brother's moods. Not to mention he had left the British compound without telling Sam, had volunteered to do scouting on Terminal City's "infestation" solo for Mick. Truth was, he had wanted to make his own decision on the inhabitants 'need to be exterminated' meter without a debate with Sam on how the British Men of Letters had wiped good ole England free of beasties so they were experts at hunting, blah blah blah. So him trying to be cutesy with a text…yeah, Sam wouldn't like that. Would be pissed, ok more pissed than he probably was already at his bailing on him. Was surprised Sam hadn't littered his phone with nasty voice messages…oh right, that's why he had purposely switched phones and the one he was currently using he just muted.

Ok, so there would be no one else consulted in this decision. But Dean nearly snorted. The decision was made already, had been the second his dumbass clone jumped between him and Cheetah man, saved his life. He didn't take things like that lightly, didn't have the luxury of believing the old 'people are mostly good' or the 'anyone would have done the same thing under the circumstances' fairy tales. Because he knew how untrue those statements were, that people were selfish and cruel and concerned themselves with saving their own butts first and foremost. So what Alec had done…it wasn't normal, wasn't run of the mill behavior, was stupid and risky and honorable and loyal and brave and …. _'Damn it, I'm not going anywhere_. _And the kid better not either.'_

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When they escorted him into Alec's room it was nine kinds of crazy to see his face, practically himself lying unconscious on the bed. Felt like it had when he ghosted himself and was outside his own body, looking down at himself. Except not. Alec was …well….Alec.

And, thank Chuck, the kid was alive, though he looked like crap on toast. Pale, thick bandage around his throat, IV dripping down into his veins, hair limp and covering his forehead. Then there was the unmanly, some would say "cute", freckles peeking out on his face like Dean had had to endure in his teens and twenties. Unaware, vulnerable….human. Too friggin' human. Too fragile. Too alone. Too much like a Winchester that it made Dean ache.

Claiming the only chair in the room, Dean shuffled nervously in the seat before leaning forward, eyes studying Alec's features. "I'm sorry for….well, I can't say everything or you wouldn't exist." Shook his head at the overwhelming weight of it all. His clone. His DNA. A mini-me of himself. Hoped Alec wasn't as cursed as he was but almost instantly realized how stupid and naïve he was being. Kid was a genetic freak, hunted by British hunters, living with things like Cheetah Man and other weird DNA connotations and had him on his family tree. Kid was cursed before feline DNA ever hit the petri dish to mix with Dean Winchester DNA.

And if Alec was meeting a different Dean Winchester, one maybe a few years older than Alec and a thousand horrible mistakes and consequences ago, that Dean would swear to make things ok for Alec, to change his destiny, to do right by him, make promises that he couldn't honestly pledge to keep. But he wasn't that guy and something told him Alec wouldn't be naïve enough to believe him if he did make any of those claims. Things were screwed up, were going to probably stay that way, heck would get worse because they were both, in essence, Winchesters.

"Speaking of Winchesters and screwed up relationships," Dean said aloud but it wasn't for Alec, was for himself. It was time he paid the piper. He had been out of the loop for two days and five hours now and even he knew that was a crappy thing to do to Sam. Sitting back in the chair he pulled out his other main phone, took in a steadying breath and turned the modern miracle of communication on. Was actually surprised it didn't immediately ring in his hand like Sam _knew_ he was back online that instant. But the flashing 5 voice mail messages said just as much.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam's irate voice carried in the room, loudly enough that Dean almost dropped the phone in his urgently to lower the volume. But Sam's pissed off tone came through loud and clear even at a lower decibel. "You won't return my calls, left without me and go do a job for Mick?! He said you "reported in", said the Terminal City situation wasn't going anywhere so they could take their time, get a good lay of the land before moving in. So I thought you'd be back at the bunker, which you're not 'cause I'm standing here and you're not. So where are you Dean?!"

Then Sam sighed like he was getting his anger under control. Had managed to, mostly, when he spoke again, this time his tone carried something Dean had little defense against: hurt. "Dean, if this about…are you punishing me because of…you know…this whole working with the Brits thing? You said you were Ok with it…that we'd decide together if we wanted out. And now you're off doing solo hunts for them?!" Anger again returning to his brother's voice before silence fell. Then true to his girly tendencies, Sam ended it with a heartfelt, "Just…call me, Dean. Let me know you're alive, Ok." Then the connection was over. Guilt washed over Dean and he knew what a crappy thing he had done to Sam, again. Rubbing his head, he sat there, phone in hand, wondering what he would tell Sam when he called him back, hating that he had put a wedge between them …a wedge that was lying unconscious in the bed beside him, was hurt because of him, because said wedge had valued his life above his own.

SNDASNDASNDA

A voice Alec didn't recognize broke through his void and the fact that the voice sounded pissed was par for his life. Apparently he could piss someone off while passed out, even strangers. But the good news was….he wasn't dead. In his experience, people didn't tend to get angry at dead people, well, not out loud with an audience, because that just seemed cold hearted and even in Manticore standards, that was in poor taste.

So he was alive, he could work with that. Next thing: Sit Rep – figure out the situation he was in and plan an exit strategy. Because if one thing was always true it was if he found himself passed out/ nearly dead, he was not going to wake up anywhere fun. Especially since Manticore's motto was…leave any dead weight behind on a mission. You got wounded: crawl your own way home. You got caught: well it was nice knowing you. You got yourself offed: funny but then they would come get you…no wait, retrieve your body and BBQ it so no one could study it, discover Manticore's dirty little DNA secrets.

Opening his eyes a slit to evaluate his surroundings, Alec took in the white ceiling overhead, felt the softness of a mattress and sheets under him, heard the muffled sound of conversations and footfalls some distance from him. And felt a presence close by. Chancing turning his head a minuscule inch, he almost doubted he was really awake when he saw Dean there in a chair by his bed, his head down focusing on something in his hand, his expression openly troubled.

Alec had been hurt plenty of times in his life, sometimes purposefully by Manticore for their twisted little experiments but never had woken up to find anyone sitting worriedly by his side. Ever. Suddenly he felt his throat close up with emotion and hated himself for going all weak-kneed at a little kindness. It would earn him -days in Psy- Ops, howling in agony as they tried to burn out the weakness in him.

Closing his eyes, Alec fought to put away the memories of Psy-Ops and what Manticore would say about his emotional attachment to his DNA donor. Manticore was gone…and maybe for the first time, he really was glad Max had taken them down. Yes she had destroyed the structure of his life, dismantled the purpose he had clung to to validate his existence, but she had given him freedom that before now seemed wasted on him. Until he met Dean, until he went against another clone to save Dean, until this moment here, with Dean there, worried about him, carrying whether he lived or died. And Alec had the freedom to welcome that, to even want that, that concern, that connection, that feeling of mattering to someone for himself, not his abilities.

' _Darn it, get yourself locked down or you'll say something all girlie and embarrass Dean, or worse, scare him off,_ ' he reprimanded himself, and the fear that he could do something to send Dean away gave him the fortitude to put his emotions in the mental lockbox that Manticore had bred in him. So instead he focused on the man at his side, took in his distress and recalled the conversation he had heard while waking up. Felt an inexplicable need to right whatever was wrong for Dean.

But he didn't know how, even after all this time free out in the world. After all, Manticore had outlawed emotions, frowned upon frank compassion in words or outward shows of concern. So he didn't say what was running through his head, a wondrous 'you're here', shocked and warmed that the man had made good on his "we" promise. Instead he fell back to what he excelled out: being a smart aleck.

Dean's head jerked up when Alec spoke for the first time since passing out in the Impala.

Eyes watching his DNA donor, Alec tried to make his weak voice sound razzing, "Either he's really pissed at you, really worried about you or…naturally a drama queen." Hoped it wasn't the wrong thing to say, that Dean wouldn't be pissed he unintentionally heard his conversation, that he wasn't adding trouble to what the man already was dealing with.

But Dean smirked at Alec's intuitiveness. "That's Sammy in a nutshell." At Alec's silent question, he clarified, "Sam….my brother."

It was unexpected for Alec, to feel hurt, jealous that Dean had a brother, a real one. "Oh… _oh_ … brother. Didn't know you had one of those." But instantly he felt stupid. He didn't even know who his DNA donor was a few hours ago, until he snuck into their peeping tom's motel room, and came face to face with Dean. For sure he didn't know much about him. Manticore hadn't been big, at all, on the get to know your DNA donor idea, like at all. And now he was acting like he had done a background check on the man, was being all creepy possessive. It was humiliating. While he was trying to find a way to regain his aloofness, Dean replied to his lame statement about his brother Sam.

"It's kind of an on again, off again kind of thing."

Alec's brow furrowed in confusion. Sure he didn't know much about family …brothers so maybe this was how things went. "Really, I thought…."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle, the kid was so unbelievably gullible. They would have to work on that. "I'm kidding…mostly. Sam and I …we aren't seeing things the same way right now."

Shifting a little higher on the bed, wincing a bit as the other claw marks on his body pulled at the motion, Alec struggled to clear his head. Lydecker had said it time and again that he had to always be situationally aware or he'd be dead. Calling on the conversation he had eavesdropped on and Dean's last statement, he surmised, "It was your brother's idea to joining the British Men of Letters."

Impressed with the kid's leap of logic but too cool to show it, Dean nodded his head. "His and my mom's."

Alec's breath caught and he swallowed hard, ended up biting his bottom lip so he didn't moan in pain as the bite mark on his neck spiked in agony at his swallow. But he wanted more information, needed it. "Mom…" hated that his voice cracked on the word. "You have…I mean everyone does, have a mom that is. Well except me…us. We're not…"

But Dean brusquely declared, "You can survive without a mom." Let that settle in before he added. "I did almost all my life." And Dean felt a flush of shame hit his cheeks, knew he was probably a horrible son for still being so pissed at his mom for not fitting into his pedestal version of her, for her wanting to work with the high rent Brits instead of him and Sam and their fly by their seat of their pants techniques.

"So I didn't miss out on anything?" Alec guilelessly asked, didn't know how to read the expression the older man was wearing but trusted Dean to tell him the real truth, unlike Manticore.

Instantly Dean felt in no way prepared to be Alec's gauge of normal, for his family, himself, normal had never been their go to thing. But Alec was waiting for him with such expectancy that Dean knew he had to give the kid something. "You did …and you didn't. Just watch what you secretly wish for, trust me on that," he sardonically tacked on, wondered how getting something he'd always wanted could hurt so badly.

"I wished for you and so far I don't want my money back," Alec admitted with a brazen smile of cheerfulness that actually reached his eyes. The heck with Manticore training! A friggin' year in psy-ops would be worth it if his expressing his utter happiness right then got Dean to stay, to not push him away.

And Dean was partly touched and partly sacred to death at Alec's belief that having him in his life was something good to write home about. Thought the kid deserved a well-meaning heads up that he was naively doing the whole 'glass is half full' thing when it was mostly a case of 'glass is bone dry'. "That's because you don't know me yet." When Alec opened his mouth to maybe refute that, Dean hastily changed gears. "I thought you could call your friends and tell them to evacuate or migrate or whatever. I tried to buy you guys some time but I wouldn't bet the house on the Brits taking my advice about not rushing the invasion until they studied your fortifications." With that, he held his cell phone out to Alec.

Taking the phone, Alec dialed Max's number and prayed this didn't go the way he dreaded it would. "This should be interesting," he muttered, giving Dean a fake closed mouth smile right before Max answered her phone with a blunt "Who's this?"

"Maxie, it's Alec," Alec greeted in his best jovial sure-to-piss-off-Max tone.

"Where are you?" Anger there not concern. "We had to move the computer server without you. Figures you'd bail when there's heavy lifting to be done."

Alec looked away from Dean's intense eye contact and fiddled with his blanket. "You know me, I have an aversion to breaking a sweat. And _talking_ about moving things…you gotta get everyone out of TC…like by tomorrow."

A beat of silence fell before Max's deadly soft tone uttered, "Come again?"

Needing a little support since there would be none from Max, Alec again looked to Dean, who was watching him but was giving no coaching on how to say the rest. "It's not White's cult but there's another group that wants us extinct. Knows right where we are and will be coming for us soon."

Max's next words were a lethal hiss. "What did you?!" before she was yelling, "So what you got in a bind and sold us **all** out this time! I swear, if I see you again Alec you'll wish I had let that bomb explode in your head."

There was no need for Dean to be gifted with acute hearing when the Max chick was screaming in her phone. All her accusations she was flinging at Alec he heard just fine, especially the 'bomb explode in your head' comment. That was a new threat…even for him and Sam.

"Max, it's not like that …" Alec then dropped his voice shamefully to qualify, "this time," his eyes averting from Dean's at his DNA Donor's raised eyebrow at that inclusion. "I just found out about all of this tonight."

"From who? Your fairy godmother?! Why can't you just man up and admit you screwed up again? It's not like I didn't expect it," Max acidly shot back.

"Never a kind word from you is there, Max," Alec lightly returned, but his fisted hand in the blanket told Dean that the words had cut deep. And that just pissed Dean off.

Leaning forward, Dean snagged the phone from Alec's grip and snarled to the shrieking Max hag, "If you're the leader of club Terminal City, it's you who screwed the pooch, sweetheart, not Alec. Ever hear of keeping a low profile?! Why didn't you just post a target on the roof of your buildings and call it a day."

Alec sat there in silence, stunned to find Dean defending him. Blame he was used to taking, heck, earning but this…this was new territory. And he liked it, could get used to it even.

"Who is this? Why are you with Alec?" and as much as there was indignation in Max's tone there was worry too. For Alec's wellbeing in the company of this unknown man, because if anyone knew how much trouble Alec could get himself in, Max did.

Dean didn't mince words. "I'm the guy telling you to get out now or you'll have a lot of your people's blood on your hands because the folks coming for you take no prisoners."

"Who are they? What do they want?" Max asked, finally starting to process the danger they all might be in.

"British Men of Letters and they live to kill monsters. Doesn't matter to them if you're working on your girl scout badge or you're a raging Wendigo. Dead is the way they like you best," Dean bluntly said, hoping that he wasn't wasting his breath, that he wasn't risking the Brit's irk and Sam and his Mom's disapproval for a bunch of retarded freaks who didn't even have enough sense to run for their lives.

But Max proved the next second she wasn't a slouch when it came to survival. "How long we have?"

"Don't know. Wish I could say a week or so but these guys move fast when they get a bug up their butt about exterminating a species," Dean said, eyes holding Alec's, knowing his clone was in their cross hairs too and that old protectiveness vibe of his was kicking in. Fully human or not, related in the old fashion way or not, Alec felt like his to safeguard.

"Ok, we'll start packing up, be outta here tomorrow night. Thanks…I guess. Now give me back Alec," Max gruffly commanded and Dean held the phone out to Alec.

"So you have a plan for this right?" Alec rejoined the conversation.

"Yeah, sort of. Where are you? You gonna be here soon?" Max asked and to Alec she sounded weird, some would say vulnerable if they didn't know her better than Alec did.

At her question, Alec's eyes did a nervous hit and run with Dean's and it was impressive that the man knew what he wanted.

"Hey, I'll give you some space," Dean allowed as he stood up then headed for the door. But Alec's words stopped him before he left.

"Dean, you're not…you'll be back, right?" Alec asked, not liking the strange feeling at the thought of letting Dean walk away from him without getting that promise.

And it was such a Sam question that it took Dean by surprise. He saw by Alec's earnest expression that he was waiting on his answer like it meant a lot to him. "Yeah, I'll grab something to eat and be back."

Alec nodded at that, knew it was too late to pretend he wasn't relieved by the man's answer. He waited until Dean left his room before he returned his focus to Max and the yet another uncomfortable conversation. When he lifted the phone to his ear, she was calling impatiently for him.

"Alec? Alec! If you hung up on me…."

"It's not a good idea for me to come back…not right now," Alec announced, half with regret and half not. I mean he had his DNA donor there, with him. Could find out some of what made him him. Of what made him human. It was the dream of all clones. And then there was the fact that he had been involved in the death of a fellow clone to save Dean. So yeah, he wouldn't be real welcome at TC right now either. Max's repeated question broke into his thoughts.

"Yo, you listening to me? I said why aren't you getting your butt back here?" When there was no reply Max felt panic, well _more_ panic tingle down her spine. Yeah, she really needed to get everyone beginning to pack up, like now, but there was something in Alec's tone that worried her. And as much as she owed TC residence her loyalty and leadership, Alec had become her friend and he sounded off and, whether it was right or not, making sure he was ok trumped her leadership duties. After all, last time she didn't pay close enough attention to Alec in an off mood like this, he nearly got a bullet in his head before she could intervene. Nearly crumbled under the weight of his own hurt and guilt. And she wasn't keen to see a repeat of that. So she stayed rooted in place, on the line, put TC's survival 2nd to her friend's wellbeing and pressed, "Is it that guy? Are you in trouble? Do you need…."

"Rescued by you, not friggin' likely," Alec cockily shot back, enjoyed the smirk he heard in Max's tone when she made her reply.

"Wouldn't be the first time, probably won't be the last," Max cockily pointed out, but there was relief washing over her because Alec…he didn't sound so much unlike himself now.

"Maybe but not today, Maxie," Alec joked back, felt pretty great that he had been the hero today, and not to just for anybody but for Dean.

"Ok, so lay it out for me. Why are you not coming here?" Max cross examined but with a gentler voice tha Alec expected.

"This guy…he's …" Alec began but it was harder to say than he imagined, like saying a wish out loud might ensure it never came true.

"Yeah, the guy, what?" and Max's tone had gone even more gentle. "Whatever you're in…maybe I can help. Maybe I even want to."

And it was unexpected, this offer from Max instead of condemnation, made the words come. "He's my ….he looks like me Max, years older but me and I thought…I never really thought I would meet…. But he was there…spying on Terminal City and …"

"Wait, hold up. Looks like you…." Max's breath caught in a sharp inhale as she made the logical leap. "Your DNA donor….the guy…he's yours," wonder and a bit of longing in her tone for something she wanted and couldn't have.

Alec couldn't hold back a beaming smile and a laugh. "Yeah his name's Dean and he's a badass, Max. Knows how to fight, didn't scream at meeting me…well, he threatened to shoot me but that was…."

"He what?!" Max interrupted in protective outrage.

"Aw, it was just your normal meet and greet nervousness, I'm sure." But then his tone turned tight with frustration and regret, "And we were getting along fabulously until Marcus the amazing cheetah dude showed up."

Max instantly swore, knew Marcus wasn't the kind of Manticore alumni to take kindly to anyone spying on them, no matter his DNA lineage. "What happened, Alec? All of it," she prodded doing her best to not let judgment leak into her voice.

Alec nervously ran a hand over his mouth. "Ah…things went FUBAR, like they usually do for me. He heard Dean mention that the British Men of Letters were looking to exterminate us and he thought it was in his best interest to kill the messenger."

"Because he's a bigger hot headed idiot than you are!" Max accused and Alec imagined her pacing the floor as they talked. "Tell me he's tied up somewhere, angry but alive."

And Alec hated that he was about to disappoint her, ruin some of the little trust she had in him. "Can't." Then he waited for the explosion, for her to hurl hateful incriminations at him.

Instead she cursed under her breath but her words were understanding and soft. "You did it to save him… Dean, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Alec choked out, felt the remembered terror wash over him again that he was going to lose Dean before he even got to know him. "I'm sorry, Max, there was no other way." Didn't matter that Marcus died by Dean's hands not his own. Had Alec gotten the opening, Marcus would have been just as dead.

Before Max could reply a pretty blond nurse walked into Alec's room. "Sorry sir but I need to check your stitches."

And Max's sharp hearing didn't miss that. "Stitches? You hurt Alec?" she asked in earnest concern, cursed herself for not asking that at the start of her cross examination, for not recognizing the current soft spoken timbre of his voice for Alec code for: weak and in pain.

"Little clawed and bit up but that's just a normal date for types like us, right, Maxie?' Alec tried to lighten the mood. "Well seems like I have to go…."

"Wait!" Max called before he could end the call, more worried at his defection because it wasn't his standard 'I'm always alright'. "Alec?!" she called, hoping he was still on the line.

"Yeah?" Alec tentative replied, didn't know what Max would say after everything he had just told her. That he was bailing on her…on TC…on Joshua when they needed him. But he wasn't going to ditch Dean, not even for Max or Joshua. Couldn't make himself do that. Didn't have the strength to do that. Maybe the goodness to do that right thing when it got in the way of what he really really wanted.

But to his surprise Max words weren't condemnation. "You need me…you call. And before it's almost too late to save your butt, ok?" Because Max couldn't ask him to give up the chance to know his DNA Donor, to be a part of something tangible, real, untainted, not forged in pain and Manticore's sterile labs. She wasn't that much of a bitch, no matter what she let Alec believe most of the time.

Breath catching in his throat, Alec croaked out, "Max…." though he didn't know what to say, how to thank her for not hating him for his choice.

"Just make sure you call me. I'll tell you where we end up. And Alec…take care of yourself stupid," Max bade and then she disconnected the call before he could make a comeback.

And as much as it hurt to break away from that connection, Alec felt something others would recognize as hope settle over him. His future was uncertain now…but not unwelcome.

"Sir," the nurse said, bringing him back to the here and now.

Putting the phone on the nightstand, Alec gave the nurse a cocky smile. "All ready to be coddled," which earned him a stunning smile from the nurse. But he stilled under the nurse's deft hands as she undid the bandage and prodded the stitch work, tried to not wince in pain and undo his façade of strength. "I don't look anything like Frankenstein's monster, right? Because there's enough links tying me to that guy already and I don't need any visual to add to it.."

The pretty nurse giggled. "Oh you're the farthest thing from a hideous monster but I'm sure you already know that."

Alec gave her his best charming smile. "I never tire of hearing it."

She only giggled more. "You and your older brother probably take turns shaking the women off you, huh?"

Alec tilted his head, repeated, "Older brother" warmth flowing over him at the connection she implied, that he so badly wanted to claim that it hurt.

"Yeah, he flirted with us when he asked where the cafeteria was. Told me to keep an eye on you and for me to keep in mind that experience trumped youth any day of the week," the nurse imparted, vastly enjoying the attention of the two good looking men on her floor that day.

Alec laughed out loud. Dang but he had the coolest brother. ' _And at the moment, he doesn't even hate my guts, so don't screw it up,'_ he chastised himself, knew his track record wasn't great with earning, let alone keeping, anyone's good opinion of him. ' _But this is too important to fail at. Manticore never accepted failure on a mission and the same rules apply here. You fail….you might as well just put a bullet in your own brain.'_

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Alec expected Dean to come back maybe with a smuggled in drink for him…not a wheelchair.

Putting two and two together and reading the veiled tension in the older man, Alec threw off the covers, was trying to sit up when Dean came to his side. Dean slipped his arm around his waist and helped him get up and shamble to the wheelchair and sink into its depths with the same kind of urgent gentleness he had in their exit from the hotel. Then Dean was at the room's closet yanking out Alec's clothing and shoving them into a duffle bag.

"I take it my blood work is setting up red flags or else the insurance coverage ran short," Alec quipped, huffed out air when Dean tossed the bag onto his lap. So much for Dean's gentleness.

"I had an interesting conversation with your doctor in the elevator up here. He wanted to know if you were on any experimental immunity system drugs," Dean provided as he manned the wheel chair and rolled it and Alec out of the room.

"And the doctor's where right now?" Alec lowly asked, felt a prickle of fear of what Dean might have done for him, to protect him.

Dean leaned down as they maneuvered toward the elevator at the end of the hallway and quietly answered, "Taking a well deserved nap in the stairwell." Then they were in the elevator and Dean briskly pushed the button for the parking lot level. "You need any meds? I can do a little shopping while you wait in the car."

Alec shot a look over his up and over his shoulder at Dean. "You act like this is CVS."

"No…better. All the meds you could want in one spot and no coupons needed," Dean smart mouthed back with a wide smile.

But there was no way Alec was going to risk Dean getting nabbed grabbing medicine for him even if he was currently caught out with no tryptophan. "No, I'm good. Let's just blaze."

Dean's face scrunched up in distaste. "Blaze? Dude that is so….Just don't say it again. Sounds like something Marty McFly would say, or no, his nerdy father."

"Marty who?" Alec questioned.

"Oh great, another Cas to train on pop culture. I'll let Sam have a crack at being your tutor," Dean muttered under his breath as he neared the Impala.

But suddenly the wheelchair came to an abrupt halt, the reason easily attributed to Alec's hands that were clamped around the wheels stopping it's forward motion on a dime. Turning around in the chair, regardless of the pain it caused him, Alec stared incredulously at Dean. "Wait. Sam? You're going to introduce me to your brother?!"

And Dean looked like he wanted to head slap him like Max did when she thought he was being inexplicable stupid.

"Yeah, straight up introductions might go over better than him just running into you in the bunker kitchen one morning," Dean sarcastically drawled. "Now how about hopping into the Impala so we can get out of here before you become some gung ho scientist's newest pet." And then he opened the Impala door and guided the weak Alec a few steps until he could ease him into the passenger seat.

Alec's head was spinning and it wasn't all about the lightheadedness but he had to patiently wait until Dean got into the driver's seat before he could clarify, "Wait, I'm going with you…you're taking me with you."

Vulnerability suddenly crossed Dean's features. "You're on the Brit's hit list and after helping me waste the Cheetah guy you might not be so welcome with your pack or whatever you call them. So I just thought…but you don't have to. I can drop you off to meet with your ….the girl Max."

"No!" Alec hastily denied before he bit his lip and tried to not come off so friggin' desperate to go with Dean. "No, I mean …going with you….sounds…good." Alec downplayed even as he knew it sounded so much better than good, more like the best thing that had ever happened to him. "And meeting Sam…that's ….a good thing too, right?" Someone once told him that if someone introduced you to their family they thought you were something special but he wasn't sure if that just applied if you were sleeping with that person.

And Dean had to give it to Alec, his question was a good one. He honestly didn't know how Sam would react to Alec and that was a worry. But they would have to just hash things out because he wasn't going to keep this from Sam, wasn't going to put another tear in his brotherhood with Sam. Sam meant too much to him to risk a falling out, especially since Dean knew Sam was trying so hard to walk the line between him and his mother, wanted to be on good terms with both of them. ' _And now I'm probably going to be walking that same line between Sam and Alec. Not to mention keeping Alec secreted away from the Brits and Mom…which Sam might not like. At all.'_ But where he had faith in his brother, Dean didn't have any in the Brits and sadly not much in his mother's judgement when it came to loyalty and family and you know, not screwing over the ones that loved you.

Tracking the troubled expression on Dean's face, Alec realized Dean was rethinking his idea of introducing him to his brother. "Hey, it's ok. I'll call Max, figure out where to meet up with them. I'll be alright. …I always am. "

But Dean didn't give Alec's new suggestion any consideration. "Sam will warm up to you. Might take some time …some kissing up on your part…but he's got a big heart. He'll come around." Dean had faith that Sam would come to see in Alec what he did.

Alec wasn't all that reassured by Dean's declaration. "Why, because you tell him to like me, to not kill me?"

Dean shot him a scoffing look. "No, idjit. Because you're not evil. We're …you know….related..and you're not a ….amazon kid who has to kill me to earn her Amazon tiara."

"Wait, I'm not a what, now?" Alec asked, totally thrown off by the whole Amazon and tiara thing.

"Doesn't matter. Sam will be ok with you….eventually." And Dean believed that. Mostly.

"If this is your idea of a pep speech…you need to get new material," Alec joked but in truth he wasn't going anywhere, trusted Dean…and if Dean trusted his brother to not shoot him on sight…it was good enough for him. Mostly.

Dean's jaw clenched and Alec was about to apologize to Dean for his jibe when Dean sent him an imploring look before focusing back to the road. "Just don't….don't pretend you like us and then dump us, ok. If you want out now…fine, but….Sam and I, we've been through too much lately to go through that again. So what's it going to be?"

And for Alec, there was no debate, hadn't been since laying eyes on Dean. Sure wasn't now after getting to know Dean better. And Dean's speech, his willingness to be open and honest with him…it melted away any residual deep rooted fears Alec might have used to talk himself into chickening out, skulking back to the other transgenics and not risking his heart and soul on making a real connection, of having even the slightest hope of having a real family. "Sorry but you're stuck with me. Someone should have warned you about picking up strays."

Relief and pleasure hit Dean at Alec's words but he hid it behind a tame, accepting nod of his head. "Sam's usually the one picking up strays, not me." But then he shot Alec a challenging look the next second, "Wait, I thought you said you _weren't_ a stray."

Alec smiled widely. "I might have lied about that. Sorry." But he so wasn't sorry if it got him where he was, with who he was with right then.

Dean smirked at Alec's admission. "Good for you. Lying is a handy trait in our family."

And suddenly Alec was thanking Manticore for all the years they had spent teaching him to tell a lie like it was the truth. Who would have guessed that that skill set was turning out to be a gateway to him actually fitting in with someone else, to maybe paving the path for him to finally get a family of his own.

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TBC

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Thanks for those reading and I'm loving the reviews!

Have a great day and for those in the US, Happy Thanksgiving!

Cheryl W.


	3. 3: First Impressions

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 3: First Impressions

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It should have been awkward, driving around with his genetically engineered clone, Dean knew this. It said something about him that it wasn't. "Ok, the super soldier idea, I get. Even taking DNA from perfect specimens like me, totally a good plan. But there's just something wrong."

Alec tensed, knew he had to expect that sooner or later the hard questions would come. The old 'how many people did you murder again?' or the 'You sleep at night how, with all that blood on your hands?' Shifting in the Impala's passenger seat he was trying to gear up to say what he had when Max bluntly called him an assassin, the "It was my job. If you want to bust my chops about it, go ahead" because no one could hate him more than he did himself for what he was, what he had become, that his blind loyalty to Manticore had gotten Rachel killed. But even as he rehearsed the lines, he knew he wouldn't be uttering them. It _mattered_ what Dean thought of him, in a way that it hadn't mattered about anyone's else's opinion of him. _'Well except for Rachel and look how that turned out.'_ But before Alec could come to grips with the fact he might lose Dean's good favor after barely earning it, his DNA donor was asking his dreaded questions.

Shooting a judgmental look to Alec from across the Impala's bench seat, Dean charged, "I mean, parrot DNA?! They actually thought blending human DNA and parrot DNA would create a super soldier?! I mean, what's his super power if you said he couldn't fly?! Only being able to say "polly wants a cracker?" under the worst interrogation methods?!"

Alec's sudden, sputtering laugh was a little unhinged, even Alec knew that without Dean's wary glance his way from the road. But relief was making him giddy, made him want to reach across and friggin' hug Dean for asking about stupid parrot DNA and not the blood staining his hands. Even if it was just a temporary reprieve, Alec was fully going to take it. "Yeah, I hear you. Parrot Guy's a tool worse than the Skunk Guy."

Dean's head whipped around so fast to look at him that Alec couldn't hold back his laughter, knew when Dean's features morphed from disbelief to revenge that Dean had gotten the joke.

"You're hilarious," Dean deadpanned before turning back to the road but couldn't fight the uptick of his lips at his clone's joke. He just knew a double of him was bound to have an awesome sense of humor, regardless of what Sam always said about him not being funny. But getting back to more serious concerns, he shot a look to Alec, needed to judge the truth of his answer. "But Manticore, its freak warehouse was burned but they aren't out of business, right? Could be planning to round up their experiments and open clone academy somewhere else once the paint's dry on the new place?" Needed to know if Alec was in more danger than just from the British men of Letters, if he had to look over his shoulder for the Men In Black too.

Alec wasn't prepared for the turn in conversation, took him a moment to say what he hadn't even said to Max. Rubbing his forehead, he surmised, "That's what I think. And then there's this other guy White and his snake cult." At Dean's raised eyebrow of concern, Alec waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "But hey, that's nothing you need to worry about. DNA Donors aren't on their hit list. In fact, humans they found rather boring."

In Dean's recollection, no one had ever said 'that's nothing for you to worry about' to him. Because, since he was four and unofficially became his family's anchor, everything was his to worry about. And since he had begun hunting, lives in danger were always his to protect…or fail to protect, in far too many cases lately. So part of him felt ticked off that Alec was shutting him down, patronizing him and yet he was slightly touched that Alec wanted to reassure him that he was safe, even if Alec might not be from said snake cult. Crap, his mom hadn't even tried to go all protective on him.

' _But Sam did_ ,' Dean admitted. His brother had donned that role on so many occasions Dean had lost count. ' _So maybe it was a little brother thing_.' And if Sam was here, doing this now instead of Alec, he'd brush him off, say 'no chick flick moments.' But Alec wasn't Sam. Was like him and he alone knew how much words hurt him, good intentions could come back and bite him in the butt, that he remembered every hurtful word his father had said to him…and his praise, far between as it had been, he barely recalled, thought now it was wishful thinking on his part, not even how things went down. _'So think before you speak, Dean,'_ he coached himself.

Dean had been quiet so long, Alec started to panic. Cursed himself for however he had screwed up. "Dean, hey, you alright?" reaching out to touch Dean's shoulder, to break the man from the clenched jaw trance he was immersed in. "If I've got more baggage than you want to deal with, no hard feelings at all. Just drop me off at the nearest town. I'll make my way to…"

Dean cut off Alec's suggestion. "We don't quit on each other," his eyes lancing into Alec's, making sure his meaning stuck.

Caught off guard by Dean's "we", Alec stammered, "What?"

"Family, our family," Dean clarified, eyes shifting from the road to Alec and back again. "We …well we're not _supposed_ to quit on each other." He couldn't help but think of his mom, of how her betrayal still hurt, her leaving him, Sam, when they just got her back. Then her joining the Brits because he and Sam apparently didn't just suck as sons but hunters too. And it shouldn't still hurt so badly but it did. Yeah their Dad had ditched them but that was to _protect them_ , and even then he trusted them to do their job, for Dean to do his job: hunting things, saving people, the family business.

"Sure we get pissed, go our separate ways for a while but we come back together, do togetherness again. Well…Sam and I….that's been the way we've handled things," Dean said, watching Alec's face but not being able to read if he agreed with any of this, even wanted a part of any of this, to be associated with their family and the crapstorm they always were dead center of all the time. Dean tried to shrug like the next offer was easy for him, wouldn't care what Alec chose. "I just mean….we can help…will help, Sam and I, with Manticore, your White guy and his cult…if, you know, you need it, need us. No strings attached."

It was too much for Alec to process. Dean associating him with his family's traits, offering his help, his _protection_. Not once had anyone offered to protect him. Not any of his unit members on a mission, not any of his trainers at Manticore, not Lydecker when he got hauled off to Phys-Ops to be tortured for six months until he was deemed stable, unlike his other twins.

Of course Alec opted to react with a smart aleck comment because letting his true emotions show, that led only to hurt in his experience. "No strings attached, huh? Last time I offered that option to a girl, she kicked me in the gut." Remembering how well his "copulating" date went with Max back in Manticore.

But Dean didn't take Alec's words as a rejection of his offer, knew it was simply a deflection, like he offered up whenever he down right refused to get all touchy feeling. So he returned Alec's comeback with a swaggering smile. "Oh kiddo, I can teach you a better way. Trust me, there are plenty of girls who love the 'no strings attached' policy….and can't resist this face," he smugly pointed to his own face.

Alec smiled cockily. "Yeah, I noticed that. It's a burden sometimes, being this perfect."

Dean snorted. "Tell me about it. Make sure you tell Sam that…he never believes me when I say that."

And just like that Alec's trepidation over actually meeting Sam resurfaced. "Yeah, I'm not sure Sam will believe anything I say. Especially the part where I am NOT a monster to be put down, regardless that I'm wearing your face, maybe he'll think I deserve it more _because_ I'm daring to wear your face."

Unbidden, Dean could hear Sam saying "I might be the hunter that runs into Benny one day and ices him." It wasn't a great time for that memory to resurface, or all the others where Sam did not trust in his faith in someone. Thought the opposite that he did , like that person should be "iced", forget about being trusted. He didn't exactly want to pass that info onto Alec but when he shot the kid a look, he realized Alec wasn't buying his Mayberry, things will be just great, let's be a family, shtick. "Ok, there have been times when Sam and I haven't seen eye to eye on my friends," he admitted.

"So what's your turnaround percentage? How long's this 'winning him over' period take?" Alec cross examined, was starting to dread this meet and greet with Dean's brother with every word Dean wasn't saying.

Silently Dean cursed. Let it up to the genetically engineered soldier to ask the right questions.. Out loud he gave a weak false laugh, "Honestly, I like when we grade on a curve …or I get to look off a cute girl's test paper."

Alec paled at Dean's bad attempt at misdirection. "So he never comes around, that's what you're trying to not tell me? That's why you haven't called him back and been avoiding his calls? Because you know once he knows about me….what? What will happen, Dean? You might want to try something close to the truth this time so I know what to expect." Then, trying to cover up the fear trying to run rampant through him, he drew on a cockily smile and drawled, "You know, maybe I should be writing up my eulogy because, let's face it, no one could do me credit but me."

"Sam's reaction varies," Dean noncommittally supplied, intent on the road.

"Ah..on what? How long they live? How fast they run?" Alec caustically countered, biting his bottom lip and looking out the side window. ' _Figures things could turn from storybook to horror movie in a few hours for me. DNA Donor likes me…bbbbbbuuuuuutttttt….his brother wants my head on a spit. Great. Just great.'_

Seeing the defeated slouch in Alec's posture, knowing he was putting it there by not being reassuring, Dean sighed, rubbed a hand down his face. "I admit Sam's reaction…it's a concern. But in fairness to Sam, my other friends had some …issues."

Not looking away from his view out the side window, Alec drawled, "Issues _other_ than not being 100% normal human?"

Alec had him there but Dean plunged ahead anyway. "Benny….he was a vampire and, yes, we haven't had luck with that type staying vegetarian but…"

Sitting up, wincing as the motion pulled on his wounds, Alec turned his incredulous attention to Dean. "Vampire? Vampire? Like the Salvatores….Klaus. Crave blood, need a spelled ring to not burn up in the sun, are immortal, freakishly attracted to the same girl with long black hair? Granted Klaus wanted to drain her blood but…"

"No!" Dean indignantly rejected before he tilted his head in contemplation, "Ok, some are like extras from Vampire Diaries but no burning in the sun and as far as I can tell they aren't stupid enough to all fall for the same teenage girl who looked like their sire."

"But they exist…vampires, possessed cougars?" Alec was still trying to get a handle on Dean's work, especially since it rocked the world Manticore ever taught him to be prepared for when he left their "sanctuary" for assignments.

"Yeah, ghosts, werewolves, we did run into a spider guy so maybe he could fit into your Manticore sideshow," Dean allowed, didn't remember that too fondly, being paralyzed, nearly watching Sam get murdered and not being able to do anything about it. Yeah, that case sucked…like so many others did. "Lots of other freaky things. And some of those things are our allies…even our friends. But trust, it doesn't come easy for Sam and I. We weren't raised to trust anything not human." At Alec's features slipped from amusement to dejected again, Dean continued, "But we can learn to trust..if you give us a reason too. Sam can learn to trust you, like I do…it just won't be overnight."

Suddenly Alec felt uncomfortable and unworthy of Dean's trust, didn't know how he had earned it and feared he would lose it as easily as he had gained it. "Maybe you're wrong to trust me. You don't know what I've done, how I've been "raised". Maybe Sam's instincts about me will be unbiased."

Dean shot Alec an incredulous look. "You're taking Sam's side….already? I figured it might happen sooner or later that you two ganged up on me but before you even met him?!" Here Dean whistled. "That was fast."

Alec sighed. "Come on, I'm not taking his side just….sounds like he's protective of you, sees the danger in your so-called friends that you might not."

"No, he saw danger that didn't exist, not with Benny!" Dean refuted, would vow to his last days Benny's steadfast friendship…especially since Benny had agreed to lose his head and get resent to Purgatory so he could help Sam get back topside….back to him.

Alec raised his hands in surrender. "Just calling them the way I see them."

"Well…stop," Dean grumbled let silence fall in the car for a few minutes before he looked Alec's way again. He noted the pinched look on his clone's face and since he knew that face so well…he knew the look was one of being in pain. Clearing his throat, he said, "Speaking of stopping…I say we sack out for the night in the next low rent motel we cross. Get a clean start tomorrow."

Realizing Dean's suggestion was for his benefit, Alec deflected, "I'm good to go the long haul. Kansas, right? Haven't been there yet, hit a few states on assignments but no touring on my own beyond Washington actually. The state not the capital of the country."

"Well need it or not, we're stopping for the night." It was weird for Dean, being the responsible one in this type of conversation. Usually it was Sam pitching a fit for him to stop when it was Dean hurting and denying it. That thought just made Dean miss Sam in that moment. That Sam wasn't there, part of this, part of Alec becoming part of them…maybe, if Alec wanted to…if Sam didn't hate Alec's guts. ' _Crap it could be like refereeing for Dad and Sam again._ ' And he so didn't miss those days.

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He had to call Sam, Dean knew it. Heck, even Alec knew it. So with a "be back" Dean left Alec to navigate the tv remote on his own as he decided to hit the vending machines around the corner…and to let Sam yell at him in the privacy of the empty parking lot.

Bracing himself for the difficult conversation to come, Dean leaned against the soda machine and called his brother. Before he could utter a greeting Sam was growling at him through the cell lines.

"Now you call me back! Now!? Dean so help me…if you haven't been taken hostage for the last two days I'm going to …"

"You gonna listen to me or just yell?" Dean forcibly cut across Sam's rantings, held his breath as he waited to see if his brutish tactics were going to work this time with his brother. Could tell Sam was trying to get his anger under control when his tone was tight but not loud when he continued.

"Yeah, I would have happily listened to you….two days ago…even yesterday. But you've been off the radar for _two days_ Dean, no text, no voice mail, nothing. You shut me out and ditched me!" Sam huffed out a breath. "So I'm not really in a great mood since I've been …I don't know, worried you were dead or something. So letting you get mad at me over this…not happening. You are going to tell me everything, right now."

Knowing how far he could push his brother and realizing he had toed over that line, Dean relented with true remorse, "I know. And I'm sorry for the …ditching you and the radio silence. And I'll tell you everything when I'm back. It's something we need to talk about face to face."

"Yeah, well, then it's happening now," Sam announced.

"What? Sam, hate to admit this but…I'm not close to the bunker." Here he gave a bogus laugh no one would take seriously. "Actually I'm in Wyoming. You'd hate the motel I'm at. It has steer horns on the room keys and a …."

"And a covered wagon by the office," Sam eerily supplied the exact thing Dean had passed as he parked the Impala for the night. "You're not shutting me out anymore, Dean."

Putting the pieces together, Dean commanded, "Sam wait…don't go in…" as he ran around the building heading for his room and the collision course between his brother and his clone.

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With his enhanced hearing, Alec knew the difference between a key being slid into the motel room's lock and a set of lockpicks. Right now, option 2 was underway. Biting his lip to not moan in pain as he pushed himself off the bed, he quickly moved to behind the door and waited.

As the door swung open, he didn't breathe, stayed silent and still like the predator Manticore had bred him to be. Then the intruder was crossing the room's threshold. Moving like the cat DNA he was graced with, he stole around the door and sent a kick into the tall brunette man's gut. As he doubled over, Alec delivered an elbow to his back, sending his unannounced guest crashing to the floor. But the transgenic wasn't expecting the tall man to throw a kick back at him as he approached.

Satisfied by the grunt of pain he heard as his boot made contact with his attacker's thigh, Sam used the temporary distraction to roll to his right and get to a crouch. And then his attacker was on him, quicker than he should have been able to cross that distance. Sam intended to block the right cross his attacker was aiming at his face…maybe would have had he not gotten a good look at his attacker and was too stunned to follow through on his deflection. So the man wearing a younger version of his brother's face smashed his right fist into his jaw, sending Sam toppling over to find his face again pressed to the motel's questionably sanitary carpet.

Even as Sam was pushing himself off the carpet, his mind was going a mile a minute. This wasn't Dean, he knew that in his soul. Besides, Dean couldn't move this fast…and neither could a shapeshifter. But a ghoul…Sam's stomach dropped at the implications, hated to think his conversation with Dean right now…had been with this ghoul. That his brother….that this ghoul had….

Incensed and panicked and heartbroken at that logical leap, Sam gave an unhinged shout and surged from the ground, tackled the ghoul around the waist, taking them both to the carpet. Then Sam reigned down a right and left on the face so painfully like his brother's before the ghoul simply grabbed both his fists in his hands and halted his attack, like a adult subduing a rebellious child. But Sam wasn't done, wouldn't be until the ghoul was dead by his hands. So he head-butted the ghoul and kneed him in the side, which got the grip on his hands loosened enough for him to slip his right hand free and reach for the knife in his boot. The knife he had started carrying since they started doing jobs for the British Men of Letters because, he didn't 100% trust them and sure wasn't going to let something happen to Dean if he had been wrong about working with them.

' _No, instead while you were the Brits, Dean was alone, being killed…_ _eaten_ _by this ghoul.'_ And the wave of grief and hatred washed over Sam, gave him the strength to slap the ghoul's hand away as he started to plunge the knife down into the neck that wasn't his brother's. He was too focused, too distraught to detect someone else entering the room, not until a hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist, halting the knife point at the ghoul's jugular before it could draw blood.

Then his brother's voice came, not from the ghoul pinned under him, but from his left. "Sam don't! It's not what you think!"

Head snapping left, Sam forgot to breathe as he found his brother on his knees beside him, that it was his hand holding back the killing blow. "Dean?!"

Dean swallowed hard, knew he had to say the right things now. "He's not evil, ok? He's not a shapeshifter..or…or…"

"Ghoul?" Sam choked out, wanting the Dean beside him to be his real brother, to not be another ghoul who had snacked on his brother like the one under his knife might have.

Dean's face contoured in disgust, "What?! No! Yuck! I'm nobody's Scooby Snack."

And there was no way even a ghoul could imitate his brother that good. "Dean?!" and this time there was heartbreaking relief and joy in his tone.

"Yeah, it's me," Dean reassured, putting his free hand on Sam's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

With that knowledge, Sam's attention shifted to the man under his weight. "Then who….what…."

But the pinned man spoke for himself with a congenial smile, like they were meeting at a social setting and hadn't spent the last few minutes trying to kill each other. "So you're Sam. Thought this meeting might go badly but this kinda takes the cake, beats my first time with Max even and that says a lot. By the way, I'm Alec, your brother's clone." And then the clone held out his hand to Sam, waiting for him to shake it.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and for those sending me those wonderful reviews that keep me writing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl w.


	4. 4: Proving Ground

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 4: Proving Ground

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Sam considered himself a rare expert at accepting the impossible and adapting his world view but this right here right now…his brother's _clone_ trying to make all this civil and common place was throwing even him for a loop. Especially since the last "clone" of his brother had been a people eating Leviathan. Needless to say he didn't take the hand Alec was offering, was still considering plunging the knife into the clone's throat when Dean intervened by tugging him to his feet with a "Sam, no" as if he had read his intentions.

That's when the shouting started.

"Dean, what the hell?! You know better than to let down your guard and trust something like this?!" Sam shouted in Dean's face as the brothers stood toe to toe.

"Whoa, hey, I'm not a some _thing_ …but a some _one_ ," Alec corrected with mock hurt but no one was paying him any attention from his position on the floor.

"Sam, he's not a threat!" Dean railed, had hoped his brother would actually trust his instinct about Alec, that they wouldn't have a repeat of the Benny argument.

"Riiiggghhtt," Sam snorted. "And you know this how?! Since you've known him so long. Dean, you've only been gone two days." And there Dean was again, adopting creatures when he wasn't there to make him be cautious!

"He saved my life Sam!" Dean bluntly replied, paled a little at remembering Alec jumping in front of him, wrestling with Cheetah guy, nearly bleeding out.

The notion that Dean needed saving scared Sam into silence, especially since he hadn't been there to protect his brother. ' _But his clone was there…like Benny was there for Dean in Purgatory when I wasn't_.' And that spiked jealousy again in Sam's heart, that, instead of him, someone else was there for his brother when he needed saving. Didn't think he could deal with having some of Dean's affection stolen away from him again.

Seeing that his confession of weakness had broken through Sam's wall of anger, Dean sighed and turned to Alec who had slowly and painfully made his way to his feet and was standing there watching the byplay between the brothers. "Alec, can you give us a few minutes."

"Ah, sure. I'll be outside," Alec submissively agreed, skirted around the brothers but didn't miss the look of mistrust Sam still shot to him. And he didn't know why that hurt him but it did. Morosely he wondered if he'd ever manage to earn Sam's trust like Dean thought he could. Wondered what Dean would do if he and Sam couldn't make peace. ' _Surely he'd side with his true brother over some DNA thief_.'

With that disheartening knowledge, Alec shut the door behind him as he stepped outside. He intended to take a walk around the parking lot and give the brothers privacy but his next step was more a stumble and he ended up leaning against the wall. Apparently having a drag down fight with Sam wasn't a smart workout with newly stitched claw marks, blood loss and still raw puncture marks on his jugular. So it was with his shoulder propped against the wall that Alec made his way down the motel pavement toward the bench outside the office. Sank into the bench with a wince and then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Hated to think his induction into Dean's family was already a thing of the past. Felt petty for blaming the imploding situation on Sam but things had been great before he showed up. More than great. And now…now it was all wrong. ' _You were a fool to think things would turn out well for you. When has that ever happened? Like never._ ' And it was just like a screwed up experiment like him to think he _deserved_ something good out of life when he wasn't ever meant to even exist. He was a freak of nature, just like Dean had called him at the start. And freaks of nature, maybe the British Men of Letters weren't all wrong to see them as abominations that needed wiped off the map. 'Sa _m would certainly agree_ ,' Alec wretchedly determined and he didn't doubt Sam was in there right now trying to convince Dean of that truth.

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Left alone, the two brothers held each other's gaze and as usual, Sam's heart crumbled to his brother's needs. Rubbing his hands down his face, Sam took a seat and looked up at Dean. "Ok. I'm listening."

Sam's about face took Dean off guard, made him have to think how to tell things not at a yelling decibel. Leaning against the bureau, he faced Sam, inhaled and began his story. "The Brits had a place called Terminal City marked for well….termination." At that pun, he smiled a bit. "Maybe hiding out in a place with that name wasn't the best idea…."

But Sam was use to his brother's strange humor, brushed it aside to get to the point. "Right, Mick said you _asked_ to do recon for them. Alone…without me."

Sensing his brother's hurt at his exclusion, Dean leaned forward, met Sam's eyes, "I didn't want to get you involved if I decided Terminal City and its residences weren't a threat."

"Residences…." Sam repeated and then his eyebrows rose. "Wait, Alec…" And he pointed to the door Alec had walked out of. Felt more betrayed that Dean would keep Alec, a freakin' clone of himself, a secret from him, go off on his own to face him.

Dean nodded at Sam's right guess but as Sam's features morphed into anger again, he raised his hands. "Wait! I didn't know anything about Alec…or clones. All I knew was that I wasn't feeling too trustful of the Brits' opinion of who should live and who should die, wanted to check it out myself before 50 lives were wiped off the map forever."

That settled some of Sam's indignation so he prodded. "So you did recon…."

"Yeah," Dean snorted, "And Sammy…what I saw…would fill your book of weird. Lizard people, cheetah guy, dog boy…but they weren't going all Donner Party. Weren't body snatching, munching or even going outside their perimeter."

Sam shifted on the bed. "And they were what? All clones? How?"

"Government experiment, our government," Dean explained, a touch of condemnation in his tone for his country's brain trust ideas. ' _Course they did give me Alec_ ,' he silently amended his reproach for their efforts before continuing his tale for Sam. "They escaped and are hiding out at Terminal City. And the Men of Letters found out of about them and planned to wipe them out. No trial, no repeals."

"And you met Alec how? Tell me you didn't just walk into their compound and say you come in peace?!" Sam asked, voice raising at the idea his brother did just that type of risky action.

"No!" Dean huffed. "I was doing surveillance from an abandoned building across the way."

Knowing Dean was stalling, Sam prodded, "Yeah and then what?"

Under his breath Dean admitted, "Alec found me."

Not hearing Dean, Sam leaned forward, asked, "What?"

"Alright, Alex found me!" Dean grumpily came clean.

And even under the circumstances, Sam couldn't help gloat, "So mister ' _I'm like a Navy Seal sniper no one sees me unless I want them to'_ got caught."

"Ya done?" Dean testily shot back before Sam nodded but his brother's smirk stayed in place. "Yeah, ok, so Alec found me but he's got special skills and training, Sam."

"Sure he does, Dean," Sam demurred to his brother's excuse then tacked on, "And he looks like you…well a much _much_ younger you. Care to explain that part?"

Dean protested, knowing a put down when he heard one, "Hey, he's not that much younger than me!"

"Dean," Sam nearly pleaded, wanted to get to the rest of the story before _he_ was old and grey.

Dean seemed to deflate and settled into a seat beside Sam on the bed. "Ok, that's the creepy part." Looked to the door to make sure Alec wasn't walking in to hear him admit that. When Alec didn't suddenly appear, Dean faced Sam. "He's got my DNA Sam. From my blood. Blood dad's old war buddy Lydecker used in Alec's "cocktail"."

Sam couldn't hold back his shock. "DNA…your blood…Lydecker. How? When?!" But then understanding came along with fury. "That bastard…when you were a kid and you got mauled….Dad _trusted_ him!"

Dean shrugged. "Dad wasn't the best judge of character."

"Yeah," Sam agreed with disdain before he focused back on Dean's story. "Ok, so Alec found you and what? You adopted him?"

Dean looked down at his hands like he was ashamed. "Alec thought I had found out he existed and come for him. Felt bad telling him I didn't know what was in Terminal City let alone about a clone with my DNA."

"So this is a charity case? You feel sorry because you didn't, what? Rescue him from a government experiment you unwillingly were part of?! Dean…" And that was his brother for him, always playing the tough guy part when at heart, he was the biggest softie.

"No, Sam, not charity," Dean denied, eyes holding Sam's, needing Sam to see in Alec what he did. "Alec wasn't the only clone to come knocking. My second guest wasn't happy when he overheard me telling Alec about the Brits' plan to annihilate them."

Sam sat up straighter, sensing he wasn't going to like the rest of Dean's tale. "Let me guess, he thought it was a good idea to kill the messenger: you."

"Give the boy a prize," Dean sardonically answered. "And I would have done ok against him…maybe… if that clone wasn't more cheetah than man." Here Dean purposely paused, didn't want Sam to take his next words lately. "Alec got between Cheetah dude and me. He saved my life and nearly died doing it."

And Sam knew that was the way to win's Dean heart, every time: Loyalty, willing to sacrifice yourself to save someone else. Alec had gotten two in one from the get go. But Sam knew he had to be the bad guy sometimes when Dean couldn't objectively see people's threat to him. Sam didn't care if someone saved the friggin' world...if they were a threat to his brother, they needed put down.

Strategically treading lightly, Sam used his gentle tone as he said, "Ok, but we don't know much about him….or them. The Brits have files on Terminal City, right? Maybe records on all the clones. It might tell us why they see them as a threat."

Dean's face hardened the longer Sam talked. "See, that's why I didn't bring you along with me for the recon." He surged off the bed but Sam was right there, grabbing his arm before he could gain any distance between them. "You want to blindly follow them…like Mom, but I can't! I won't," Dean angrily declared even as he was afraid this was the point while Sam would take that final step, chose the Men of Letters over him. Just like their mom had.

"Whoa, whoa. I'm talking about research, facts, making an informed decision," Sam evenly defended himself, didn't like the wall Dean was starting to put up between them.

"Like Mom chose to work with them instead of us. Did a pros and cons chart and we lost out?!" Dean heatedly retorted, couldn't bury his hurt with any success.

Afraid Dean would stalk away from him in anger and hurt, Sam latched onto Dean's other arm, tightened his grip on his brother. "Hey, you're stuck with me, no matter what!" Because he knew that was at the heart of everything, their loyalty, their brotherhood, that he wasn't choosing the Brits or his mom, over Dean. He saw that statement ease some of the tension in his brother before he continued, his voice timid, earnest, "I just….don't want to let down my guard either. Not for the Brits..or this clone. We've been hurt enough by trusting the wrong people." Internally Sam vowed, ' _Dean's been hurt enough by Mom…I won't let some lookalike of him do him more damage.'_

"I know," Dean sadly admitted, but couldn't help but defend Alec in his next breath. "But Alec …he's not here to hurt me…or you. It was my idea, not his that he come with me back to the bunker to meet you."

"Ok, but let's just take things a little slower. What did you tell Mick? When I demanded he tell me where he sent you, he said he was trying to get in touch with you for a follow up report but couldn't reach you." Here Sam blushed. "That's when I tracked your phone and went hell for leather for Seattle."

"And ended up ambushing Alec," Dean pointed out. "By the way, I'm grudgingly impressed. I didn't fair too well against Cheetah dude but you had Alec dead to rights." Didn't mention that Alec wasn't at his full 100% but Dean still doubted his own odds against the transgenic, after all he had witnessed the throw down between Cheetah guy and Alec. Ferocious came to mind as a descriptor.

Sam huffed out a breath of exasperation that Dean didn't get what he had thought Alec was, had done. That he thought he was avenging Dean's death! "What did you expect, Dean?! I thought he was a ghoul that killed you!"

Finally seeing Sam's point of view and knowing how much worry he had wracked on his brother, Dean gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze. "Yeah, sorry about the scare. I was a jerk for not telling you where I was and what I was doing."

"A Class A jerk," Sam agreed but there was a hint of a smile turning up his lips. "So did you contact Mick?"

Stepping back from his brother, Dean supplied, "Initially I told him that he could take his time, that the Terminal City freaks were pretty embedded and weren't going anywhere. I went radio silent after that."

"So what are you going to tell him? And if he finds Alec at the bunker, then what? That you saved the one good clone and the rest are fine to be put down?" Sam retorted, voice rising.

Dean shuffled on his feet, knew Sam wouldn't like the decision he had made. "I kinda had Alec tell his clone buddies to am scram from Terminal City. They'll be all gone when Mick's next scout comes to check on them."

"Dean, are you crazy?! You know Mick will see that as you going against them." Fear starting to thrum through Sam at the implications of defying the Men of Letters because something in his gut told him making them their enemy wasn't a good move.

"And then what? They'll revoke my ghostbuster membership card?" Dean chided with a chuckle.

But Sam wasn't taking any of this lightly. "Dean, we don't know how they'll react to you doing this."

"Hey, you're the one that wanted us to work for them," Dean challenged, like Sam needed to tell _him_ the Brits were an unstable bunch.

"I liked having their resources, yes, but that doesn't mean I think they aren't dangerous if we cross them. But if you know where the clones have moved to then you could tell Mick…" Sam began to strategize.

But Dean cut him off. "What?! No, they aren't a threat and I'm not letting the Brits wipe them out because they don't fit under normal human demographics, Sam."

"If this is about Alec….we don't have to tell Mick he's not with them." Because Sam might have killed Dean's amazon daughter to protect Dean but he didn't think Dean would give him a pass again, knew he couldn't murder Alec…well, not in front of Dean anyway. But if the clone proved himself a threat, Sam knew that he would do what he had to do to protect Dean, regardless if Dean approved or not.

"No, it's not just about Alec! I went there to see if any of them deserved to die and my answers is a big fat no. Well, expect for that Cheetah douche but he took his shot and lost," Dean allowed, wasn't going to cry any tears about that clone being terminated, not after he almost killed Alec.

"And how do you know the rest aren't….aren't feral too?! You met one…two of them and one you deemed good and one bad. Not great probabilities if you ask me," Sam argued, didn't want Dean risking his life going against the Brits on some half thought out gut instinct. Their gut instincts had been wrong before, Dean's especially. Gadreel came to mind but Sam wasn't going to voice that one.

"I watched them Sam. They weren't hurting anyone," Dean asserted, wanted Sam to believe him, to have faith in him. Needed him to.

"In the _two days_ you were there! Dean…you let them escape and you don't really know how dangerous they are. How dangerous he is," he stressed again pointing to the door, wouldn't let Dean's good heart make him a target for Alec's manipulations.

"So the fact that he's got my DNA….is blood… family means nothing to you?" Dean insistently dared Sam to say those facts didn't matter, shouldn't matter.

But Sam didn't rail back in anger but gave a quiet sorrowful reply. "So is mom, didn't stop her from hurting us." Sam hated that his words provoked a flinch from Dean. Softening his approach, he said, "Look I'm not saying….dump Alec along the road, just….be a little cautious on your level of trust you're giving him until he's earned it, ok?"

Dean's response was a clipped, "Fine," causing Sam to sigh in exasperation. "What, Sam? I'm trying to do what you want me to!"

"Begrudgingly," Sam accused before he raised his hands in surrender. "Look this is not getting us anywhere."

Dean opened his mouth to make a reply but a knock came at the door before Alec's voice drifted into them. "Far be it for me to interrupt the discussion of whether or not I'm a monster and should be put down but two cop cars are heading here fast," Alec sardonically informed them.

The brothers crossed to the door together. Opening the door, Dean looked past Alec's shoulder to the road peeking out from the forest surrounding the motel but he didn't see anything or hear any sirens. Raising his eyebrows he looked to Alec in question.

Alec tapped his right ear. "Super hearing. You could doubt me but I think some extra get away time is always nice."

But Sam was still doubtful…until the police cars came into sight through the break in the forest fronting the road. The cruisers were just turning down the road heading their way fast, too fast. "Why are they here?!"he demanded, piercing Dean with a look of accusation.

"You're the one that busted up the place attacking Alec," Dean shot back.

"Course it could be that you decked a doctor when we went AWOL from the hospital without paying or explaining my freaky immune system," Alec quirkily supplied, earning him a glare from Dean and a look of surprised concern from Sam.

"Hospital?" Sam repeated, his look demanding answers from Dean mingled with concern that Dean might, once again, be hiding injuries from him.

"Yeah, hospital. Like I told you, Alec nearly died saving me," Dean testily repeated himself, was about to head out the door to the Impala but Sam was grabbing his arm pulling him back into the room even as Alec had a hand on his chest halting his forward motion.

"We have to go out the back," Sam decided, giving Dean's arm another tug.

"What?! No. The Impala's right here," Dean protested but Alec was busy blocking his forward motion and Sam wasn't loosening his hold on him.

"Yeah and the cops are right here too," Alec announced as the cops tore into the motel parking lot. With a joint effort, one pulling and one pushing, Alec and Sam got Dean back into the room and started ushering him toward the back of the room. Dropping his hold on Dean, Sam tried to slide open the window but it wouldn't budge. That's when he noticed that some rocket science had bolted it shut. Suddenly Alec was there shifting him aside.

Smashing his elbow right through the glass and wood frame like it was kindling, Alec gave an elegant hand gesture to say 'you first' to the Winchesters. Sam gave Dean a shove forward and his brother obediently crawled out the small window head first then Sam went followed by Alec. Then the threesome was taking off at a run even as they heard the pounding start on their motel room door. They ran in synch into the forest, didn't stop until the motel and the cops were a mile back.

When Dean slowed down and stopped he looked longingly back the way they had come. "My baby's back that way!" he groused, not happy that Sam and Alec had agreed on one thing: that he should leave the Impala behind.

"We'll steal it out of police impound tomorrow. Come on," Sam said starting to move again, saw that Alec wasn't moving either, didn't seem like he would until Dean reluctantly did. Then it was the three of them huffing it through the woods again. Sam hadn't missed Alec's part in getting Dean to abandon the Impala so they could skip the joys of being arrested. And sure, it was self-preservation on the clone's part because he probably didn't want to be on the radar of the cops but then again, he could have bailed on them and went off solo. Instead he was sticking to Dean's side like some loyal puppy. And that rankled a bit with Sam. After all, he was the dog lover, not Dean.

Shooting a look across Dean to Alec, Sam began the interrogation. "Guess your fingerprints on a police record would pop up on an alert for the government agency you worked for."

Knowing what Sam's inquiry was about, Alec answered straightforwardly as he met Sam's shrewd gaze, "Manticore. That's the agency and they got shut down. It's not a good thing when your experiments escape, looks bad for the budget reports."

"So you were just hiding out at Terminal City with your fellow clones because you liked the sense of community?" Sam snidely retorted, wanting Alec to admit he was a risk to his brother.

"Sam," Dean warned but Alec chuckled.

"Sense of Community…I like that. I might suggest Max put that on the rental ads for their next hideout." But thinking of Max made Alec's worry for her and Joshua and the others spike. Sure he had given them the warning but had they gotten out in time, were they somewhere safe right now. "Any news on Terminal City? Did your group make their move yet?" this he directed to Dean.

"They wouldn't. They are waiting for my followup "report"," Dean answered, but he was starting to wonder just how to handle the Brits. His brother's warning not to take their anger and sense of betrayal was starting to sink in.

"Yeah and exactly what will this "report" say?" Sam chastised, knowing that Dean hadn't thought this through like he should have.

"Ah…they come in peace," Dean joked and though Alec laughed, Sam stewed. "What Sam? What should I say? I think you're all a bunch of prejudice homicidal idiots so I told your prey to run like hell?"

"Yeah, Dean, that's exactly what you should say," Sam drawled with thick sarcasm.

But Alec was starting to read the tension in Sam, knew it wasn't all anger…it was worry, for his brother. "So how pissed will they be, these Men of Letter guys that you let me warn Max and the others?" he asked of Dean.

"Don't worry about it," Dean downplayed even as Sam growled, "Very Pissed."

Alec chose to take Sam's answer as more truthful. Looking to the younger Winchester he asked, "Pissed as in a day without pay or pissed as in …spend time in a brig or face a firing squad." Because the risk Dean had made for him, for Max and the others was starting to hit him. And it was stupid that it had taken him this long to see it. After al, wasn't him who said to Max that they were a danger to them (humans?!) How quickly he forgot his own advice when it came to wanting to be with Dean, to be a part of a family of his own.

"They don't have a firing squad," Dean refuted before he turned to Sam, "Do they?"

Sam huffed out a "No" to Dean's inquiry but his scowl of worry didn't melt away but deepened. "But we don't know how they'll react, Dean. If you had let me come with you…."

"And be in the same trouble I am? No," Dean sharply denied, he would take the licks from the Brits for his actions but didn't want Sam in hot water with him. "And besides, you're forgetting that they don't know I pulled the whistle on their operation."

"Right and you had no idea a clone of you stashed away in the Impala and you never noticed him strolling around the Bunker," Sam meanly shot down Dean's fairy tale.

Now it was Dean's turn to scowl at his brother. "You're not helping, Sam."

Throwing out a hand, Sam stopped Dean's forward motion so they could talk eye to eye. "Maybe because it's way past the point I can help! They'll know it was you who let them slip through their fingers and they'll find Alec, it's not like they don't have the key to the Bunker…all and any Men of Letters' bunkers. This isn't something we can _hope_ they don't find out."

Dean's jaw clenched with defiance. "Fine. Then I tell them what I did and I'll be off their team. No love lost between us anyways."

Sam paled at Dean's plan. "Dean….what about Mom? She's still there…with them."

"She didn't ask my blessing to work with them…and, come to think of it, neither did you. So you're fine to keep your membership card, Sam. I'll be the black sheep in the family," Dean said, though it hurt to know Sam wanted to keep working with the Brits, would after he bailed on them. That all this fuss was probably Sam worrying that Dean expected him to quit on the Brits if he did. "We're not joined at the hip, Sam," he meant it as his way of giving Sam permission to do his own thing but it came out bitterly.

As much as Dean's statement was the direct opposite of what Sam wanted, Sam found himself snorting in laughter, earning him a look of worry from Dean like he feared that he was losing it. "Joined at the hip…" Sam repeated, seeing that Dean wasn't getting the joke he continued, "Like…Siamese twins?"

A begrudging smile turned up Dean's lips at the reference to their fight when they first met Gabriel in the guise of the Trickster. "Conjoined twins," Dean corrected with a chuckle and it broke the tension between the brothers.

Alec in no way got what was funny about mixing up twin diagnosis but he understood the bond between the siblings better. Dean might _say_ he was ok with Sam staying with the Brits but he wasn't and Sam might lecture Dean about his actions but he wasn't going to let his brother face the consequences on his own. But what neither one of them got was he was the answer to all their problems. "You tell the Men of Letters that I escaped from your custody and quickly called Max, warned my friends because I overheard Dean tell you what was going to happen to them. So nobody has to leave or get in trouble…well, not too much trouble."

Sam was mulling over Alec's suggestion even as Dean was rejecting it. "No, that will put you on the Men of Letters hit list for sure. You personally. I get the feeling that they don't like loose ends."

"But this could work," Sam stressed, already planning how they would report it to Mick.

"It will work. I'll drop off the radar and meet up with Max and the others. Simple. And brilliant if I have to say so myself, " Alec cockily said, hiding the regret of letting Dean go out of his life as quickly as he had entered it. ' _Don't get all sappy. He unwillingly and unknowingly gave you his DNA, that doesn't require him to be stuck with you longer than he's already put up with you,'_ Alec sternly told himself.

But Dean had already lost his Mom in part because of the Men of Letters, he didn't want to lose Alec too because of them. "No, we're sticking together," he defiantly stated like his word as big brother was law.

It didn't stop Sam or Alec from protesting his decree.

"Dean you have to think this through." That came from Sam.

Alec was a little less diplomatic. "Sticking together so we all three face the firing squad, not really the blazing glory exit I envisioned."

"There's no firing squad!" Dean growled in denial and then he turned accusing eyes onto Alec. Knew Alec wasn't acting on fear but thought he was being honorable. Well honorable sucked when it just ended up hurting everyone. If anyone knew that, Winchesters did. "What happened to the pact that you wouldn't bail on me? That you wouldn't cut and run after I gave you my trust." Because if he had to shame Alec into not falling on his sword for him, he'd gladly do it.

Alec paled at Dean's condemnation, had thought he was making the offer to leave as a good thing, a hard sacrifice but one Dean would appreciate…not one that would hurt Dean, come across as a betrayal. "But…but I'm putting you in danger," Alec stammered, and that was the last thing he wanted to do to Dean, had hurt enough people…actually everyone that ever knew him, didn't want to add Dean to that tally.

Alec's vulnerable tone sliced through Dean's heart. Crap his guilt trip to manipulate Alec had went too far, like it did sometimes with Sam. "Danger is my middle name," he dismissed Alec's worry with a cocky smile almost able to match the one in Alec's arsenal.

"Dean…" Alec began in protest before a wave of lightheadedness struck and he knew that his flight or fight adrenaline rush that had kept him on his feet was waning and his body's weakness was coming back full force.

When Alec staggered to the right, Dean caught hold of him, pulled him close so he could lean against him to keep his feet. "Crap. This marathon wasn't what the doctor prescribed," an apology in his tone for pushing Alec past his limit when he had been freakin' bleeding out only hours ago.

"I'm sure it was somewhere on his list," Alec weakly retorted, hated that he was being a liability for Dean, again.

Stunned at Alec's near collapse, taken back at Dean's gentle care of the clone, Sam was reevaluating Dean's claim that Alec had nearly died saving his life. It made him study the clone in a new light and notice a dark stain on Alec's shirt by his left side. "He's bleeding," he announced, surprised that there was actual concern in his tone. Then he was crossing to Alec and lifting up the clone's shirt with almost as much care as he would if it were Dean. The sight of the bandages across Alec's torso spotted with blood was a dose of cold water for Sam. Alec wasn't faking it to get on Dean's good side, or gain his sympathy vote.

Looking down to see what Sam had, Dean cursed. 'You've pulled your stitches."

"They were shoddy work anyway," Alec joked but he found he couldn't hold his head up anymore, had to let it drop onto Dean's shoulder as he closed his eyes from the world spinning around him so he didn't puke.

"Ok, ok, let's sit you down," Dean gently advised, but Alec protested weakly, "No..no we shouldn't stop. The cops…."

"Are too lazy and not bored enough to chase us through the woods over a noise complaint," Dean assured before he ordered, "Now sit," and helped Alec to claim a seat on the forest floor and rest his back against a tree trunk. Then Dean was crouching beside him, Alec heard rustling that probably meant Sam had dropped to Dean's side. He opened his eyes to see the brothers looking at him not with pity but concern, even Sam.

Pulling down the collar of Alec's shirt, Dean revealed the bandage on the right of Alec's neck. With care he peeled it back to reveal the teeth marks, which mercifully were only a little enflamed. "No bleeding here," he announced in relief as he put the bandage back in place. But beside him, Dean heard Sam's breath catch in his chest at the physical proof of the damage Alec had endured to protect him. Looking to Sam, Dean saw the dark understanding that Dean knew in his gut.

A wave of cold swept over Sam as he realized that if that type of damage had been inflicted on Dean, his brother would probably be dead right now, that whatever Alec was, he had far superior physical endurance for trauma than a normal human. Even Sam had to accept that Alec was the only reason he hadn't arrived in Seattle in time to collect his brother's body from the coroner. ' _Try telling me_ a _gain how much this kid can't be trusted_ ,' he cynically retorted to himself, eyes coming up to meet Alec's pain dulled gaze that was surprisingly on him and not Dean, as if seeking his good opinion.

Then a conclusion hit Sam and he lowly cursed. "Alec, I'm sorry…our fight in the room, I kneed you in the side and …"

"Generally beat me up, nope, don't remember any of that. Never happened," Alec wise cracked weakly, didn't want Sam to feel guilty or his own reputation to be smudged with a defeat any more than it already was. "We will never speak of that again."

Sam pulled on a weak smile at Alec's antics. "Yeah, Dean doesn't like to admit losing to me either," he teased back, had to start accepting the similarities between Dean and Alec.

"When have I ever lost to you?" Dean demanded in mock outrage of Sam.

"To rock, paper, scissors, every game," Sam gloated before including Alec into the conversation. "I'll teach you how to beat him each and every time."

"No you won't!" Dean protested but Sam gave a conspirator wink at Alec to let him know that yes he would.

And Alec couldn't quite believe that Sam had suddenly decided to play nice, to stop hating his guts. He didn't mind the change, at all, but hoped it wasn't a front simply to appease Dean, to get Alec to let down his guard before he put the screws to him. So he warily watched Sam as the two Winchesters stood up and discussed him.

"I'll go for the car, you help Alec to the road," Dean planned.

"The cops, Dean," Sam warned, didn't want Dean rushing head long back there and getting himself arrested.

"Have left by now and haven't gotten someone to tow the Impala yet," Dean assured before he turned around and began to jog back to the motel.

Left alone with Alec, Sam crouched down beside the clone. "Ok, think you can stand?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Alec put on his best bravado façade and started to push himself upright, found Sam was there by his side instantly, wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling his arm over his shoulders. Then they were moving, slowly to the east, toward the road.

Sam shot Alec a few glances before he broke the silence. "Thanks for what you did for Dean."

"Don't mention it, all in a day's work," Alec dismissed jovial, trying to not put too much weight on Sam regardless of his woozy status.

"You even sound like Dean," Sam undertoned, enjoyed Alec's surprised look at the compliment. "One minute he's a braggart and the next he's Mr. Humble."

Alec couldn't help the smile that sprang to his lips, liked that he and Dean had something in common besides their stunning good looks. He wanted to ask Sam if he shared any other traits with Dean but didn't want to push his luck with Sam's surprising turnabout opinion of him. Instead he took the opportunity to talk frankly with Sam, "I can still go away, you can still tell your bosses that I warned Max and the others to leave TC. They don't have to know Dean saved me….saved them."

Sam was surprised Alec was making the offer again, was seeking his blessing to do it and keep Dean in the clear. And a large part of Sam wanted to give Alec his ok, to do anything he could to keep Dean in the good graces of Mick and the others…and their mom. Because he feared that if Dean was blackballed by the Men of Letters Mary would think less of Dean and that made Alec's offer even more tempting.

But he had heard Dean, knew his brother didn't want Alec to risk himself, had thought enough of Alec to want to bring him home to the Bunker, to meet him. And he clearly wanted Sam to like Alec. ' _It's hard to not like someone who saved Dean's life…who's offering to put a bullseye on his back so Dean doesn't get into trouble_.' And darn it if Alec's self-sacrificing actions weren't just something Dean would do, had done time and again.

Looking to Alec as they maneuvered the last steps to the road, Sam earnestly admitted, "I don't trust easily…or much at all lately but ….you saved Dean. And that matters to me, a lot." Let that sink in with Alec before he offered, "I could use someone else I trust to have Dean's back…and mine, especially since we hooked up with the Men of Letters, since I convinced Dean to work with them. Our lives are dangerous, we don't get thanked much and Dean and I are really good at pissing off the people we love, including each other. So what do you say?"

Alec was having trouble grasping Sam's offer, stood there mute as the Impala approached but when it came to a screeching halt and Dean came out, began helping Sam get him into the back seat of the Impala, Alec grabbed Sam's wrist before he could shut the back door. "I'm all in."

He wasn't expecting Sam's brilliant smile but found he was smiling too as Sam rounded the car and got in the passenger side and Dean put the car in motion. When Dean spared a glance over the seat to him and worriedly asked, "You doing OK?" Alec didn't have to lie when he made his reply. "I'm better than Ok." Because seriously what were a few stitches, some pain and wooziness in light of him getting a family in the form of two kickass hero brothers who actually wanted him to stick around. Alec had never honestly thought he'd have a day as good as this one had turned out to be.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and your wonderful supportive reviews!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	5. Truths We Tell

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Wish I could say I got to some action scenes in this chapter but sadly no. Hope it doesn't bore you to tears. Oh and one reminder: I'm going a bit AU from the true season so Dean showed up alive back at the bunker with their resurrected mom and Sam was there, didn't have a bad encounter with anyone at BMOL, were still in the dark they existed. Ok now onto our story!

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Chapter 5: Truths We Tell

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Coming awake, Alec didn't open his eyes, sensed someone hoovering nearby, couldn't remember where he was, how he came to be asleep and that was never a good scenario. Remembered back under Manticore's regime getting a bullet to his shoulder and passing out, waking up in one of their sterile operating/torture chambers with a Y incision painted on his chest and a scalpel headed for that marker line to slice and dice him like he was already a cadaver. He did now what he did then, blindly reached out and accurately snagged onto the hand headed toward him and gave it a twist backwards.

Heard the satisfying cry of surprised pain even as he opened his eyes and jerked upright…to find it was Dean's arm he was nearly breaking. His tactic had Dean on his knees on the pavement outside the stopped Impala, hand behind his back, pain painted across his features. "Crap, crap, crap…" Alec swore as he released his grip on Dean like the man was on fire. "Sorry, sorry!" Felt a thousand times stupid and shamed that he had attacked Dean. ' _Yeah, try and prove to him you're not feral after this,'_ he dismally thought.

Then Sam was there, having witnessed the action a hundred yards away he had run for Dean, not sure if Dean would like how he defused the situation but was glad Alec disengaged on his own. Coming to a crouch by Dean, he questioned, "You alright?" using that tender tone Dean would object to if he was truly unhurt.

Which Dean did. "Course I'm alright," Dean groused, giving his wrist and arm a shake like he just needed to get out the kinks. Then both brothers turned their attention to Alec, who was paler than when he passed out in the Impala the first time bleeding out.

"Dean, I'm so sorry. I just….I wasn't…." Alec stammered, didn't think there was much in the way of excuses that would make this better. He had freaking attacked Dean…the man who had been willing to pretend he was more human than animal. And now he probably blew that to pieces. ' _Was bound to happen sooner or later. Can't change what you are, Alec. And what that is, it is way worse than exhibiting some animal traits.'_

But Dean wasn't yanking him out of the back seat of the Impala, was offering up a smirk to him instead. Alec watched as Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who gave a huff of ironic agreement to whatever thought was passing between the brothers. Eyes swiveling back to Alec, Dean quietly absolved, "Yeah, I get it, _we_ get it. I shouldn't have tried to wake you like that." And it wasn't a happy thought for Dean to know Alec was on edge as much as he and Sam were, that whatever his life had held before, it certainly wasn't safety.

Alec felt like sleep was still dragging him down, looked from Dean and Sam and back to Dean, trying to process that Dean was apologizing to _him_ for Alec trying to break his arm. Whenever he found himself in uncomfortable situations, Alec fell back to his old standards: humor. "You do know that when someone hurts _you_ , _you_ shouldn't be the one saying you are sorry, right? I mean, Manticore wasn't great on teaching correct human emotional responses but I learned that one from the boob tube, episodes of Home Improvement."

"Home Improvement? Really?" Dean teased. "Thought maybe Friends….When I Met Your Mother…"

"Beggars couldn't be choosy," Alec retorted with a smirk, couldn't believe Dean was letting him off the hook but then sobered, knew he didn't deserve for this to be shoved under the carpet. "But really…I didn't mean to react like that. I just…." Looked to Sam then because he thought he was the one he truly needed to convince that he wasn't wrong to think he would protect Dean, hadn't meant to hurt him, wouldn't consciously do that. "My training….my life…I expect bad things to come knocking, never good things. So it's a good survival technique to…"

"Come up swinging," Dean supplied for him and Alec's eyes snapped to his, knew that they had just met a day ago but they seemed to know each other, soul deep. Alec could only give a stunned nod.

Dean gestured to Sam and then himself. "Monster hunters, things coming after us all the time to waste us, enough PTSD between us to fill up the national quota. If anyone understands, when in doubt, hit first, ask questions later, it's us."

Sam gave an agreeing nod before he spoke, knew Alec needed to hear the same forgiveness from him. "Bunker's probably the only place I get a good night's sleep, that either of us do. So yeah, I can't judge." Sensing Dean's surprised gaze on him, Sam turned to his brother, questioned, "What?"

"You never told me that," Dean quietly said, needed to make sure he had heard Sam right.

"Told you what?" Sam asked, not sure what had Dean looking so vulnerable.

"That you sleep best at the Bunker. I thought….you know…." Dean stammered, felt nine ways stupid for starting this, for wanting, _needing_ to know Sam didn't hate the Bunker anymore. "Ah..forget it, doesn't matter. Alec we have to…."

But Sam knew it was important, knew why it was important. Cutting across Dean's attempt to dismiss his vulnerability, Sam declared, "The Bunker's home…" at Dean's raised eyebrows of skepticism on his change of heart, he qualified, "Now. It's my home now." But instead of earning him approval from Dean, his brother's face clouded over into pained disappointment.

"Right…because of Mom. She was there…made it…homey and now you have memories of her being there. I get it," Dean said, couldn't help feeling jealous of his Mom, that she was home to Sam. Could give to Sam what he couldn't…even though she had quickly stolen it away again, it still counted for more than he could ever give Sam. A big brother was never really a replacement for a mom.

But Sam's face scrunched up into confused objection. "What?! No." Then he pulled out his patient, I-love-my-brother-but-he's-slow-sometimes tone. "Dean, it's not Mom. It's you."

"Really, suddenly I'm enough," Dean caustically challenged, forgetting a moment that Alec was there, getting a front row seat to their brotherly squabbling. "What, since Mom disappointed you now I'm not looking so bad? Because our Bunker totally trumps the modular whiteness of the Men of Letters compound all of a sudden now the Bunker's someplace you want to call your own?"

Sam's jaw clenched at Dean's deductions, though he knew he deserved them for his early cold refusal to welcome the bunker as a home, for all the times he told Dean he wanted to be gone, wanted a life free of hunting and consequently free of him. But he couldn't forget their audience, shot Alec a look before he turned back to Dean, nodded his head to the right, away from the Impala and then got up walked that way, stopped two hundred yards away and waited anxiously for Dean, hoped his brother would come to him, that they could get things out in the open between them.

Sighing as Sam walked away, Dean contemplated ignoring Sam's silent command to follow him, didn't want to get into all this. ' _Then you shouldn't have kicked the door in_ ,' he growled to himself. Turning to Alec who was sitting there silent but wholly observant, he promised, "Just give Sam and me a few minutes and then we'll patch you up, ok?"

"Take your time," Alec allowed, felt a need to encourage Dean, to tell him he thought whatever Sam wanted to say to him privately, it would be to heal him, not hurt him. That Sam had only accepted Alec's presence because he had proven himself able and willing to protect Dean, even at the cost of his own life. Apparently Sam demanded total loyalty of his allies, not to himself but to Dean. But Alec stayed silent, because he was a science project, didn't have the right to speak about their relationship, probably didn't have the equipment to generate the type of bond the brothers shared. _'Yeah, I think you need a soul to love like that_ ,' he chastised himself as he gave Dean a nod toward Sam, signaled him to go to his brother, to not waste more time on him.

Rolling his eyes at the realization that now he had two little brothers who thought they could nod and he'd just go do their bidding, Dean none the less got up and headed toward Sam. Trying to head off the chick flick moment before it began, as he reached Sam, he opened with, "Hey, you like the Bunker now, that's great. Doesn't matter why so let's just move on. Alec needs patched up and we need to hit the road again." Then Dean was turning around, about to head back to Alec, to hopefully side step all of this between him and Sam and the Bunker.

But Sam wasn't taking the hint, grabbed Dean's arm before his brother could walk away and stepped into Dean's path. Clenching his jaw, not in anger but trying to lock down his emotions so he could speak, it took Sam a moment before he said anything, and even then his voice was hoarse, bordering on cracking. "After I thought…when I thought you died killing Amara…there was only one place I wanted to be: at the Bunker." Hated remembering that grief, that all-encompassing black hole in himself thinking Dean was gone and this time he wouldn't be coming back.

Seeing the protest raising in Dean at his words, Sam pressed on, "Besides the Impala..and once Bobby's house, the Bunker's the only place where I can look around, pick up things and remember the good memories …of you, of us together. I might have only thought you were dead for a few hours this time but….," Vividly he remembered opening the door to the Bunker and falling to his knees, unable to bear the truth that he was alone now, that Dean would never be walking through the Bunker doors at his side ever again. Here his voice did break "Those hours were _hell_ , Dean."

And Dean knew that he and Sam didn't reference Hell lightly, not when they both knew its torments personally. "I'm sorry Sam. For putting you through that. I should have gotten back there sooner, regardless of finding Mom. I was just ….."

"Hey, you came back, that's all that matters Dean," Sam readily exonerated his brother, didn't want Dean to carry guilt for again being willing to sacrifice everything, his life, his soul to save the friggin' world. "But you came back to the Bunker, knowing I'd be there. I was there when you were…were gone before…with Crowley." Hated that Dean's face blanched with shame at the reference to his time as a demon. "I knew I should be out looking for you, scouring every town, city but….leaving the Bunker…where I could feel close to you…it was hard, Dean. Harder than leaving any place else ever was. I mean…when you died…when Metatron …." Sam shook his head as tears slipped free that he wiped away as if they were a nuisance. "I brought you ….you _home,_ Dean. To the bunker."

Dean felt like he was fighting for breath, hadn't ever been privy to seeing those events through Sam's eyes before. And as much as he felt guilty and shamed for hurting Sam, putting his brother through so much grief and sorrow and heartbreak, he was grateful that Sam had had the Bunker, that it had been his refuge. Still was. "This your way of saying yes to the pool table?" Dean joked because it was far safer than trying to tell his brother how deeply his words had affected him and keeping himself from going all teary eyed too.

Sam gave a broken laugh and nodded his head, "Yeah, Dean, you totally saw through me," he sarcastically drawled, found that he was ok with letting Dean get away with his deflection, because he read in his brother's eyes that he got it now. The Bunker was their haven, for both of them, when they were together and especially when they were apart. And wasn't that the essence of a home?

SNDASNDASNDA

Honestly, Alec didn't think it should be qualified as eavesdropping when you had the hearing that he did. I mean, he couldn't turn off his ears, right? _'But I could have hummed or shut the car door or did something more honorable than tune into every word I knew they didn't want me to hear.'_ But he had heard and though there were gaps in their conversation, things they didn't call by name, he was affected by their interaction, by the emotions choking them up, awed by the strength of their obvious love for each other. And it made him ache somewhere down deep that he'd never known anything like it, didn't even know he was missing it, whatever the brothers had between them, until now.

Blinking away surprising wetness in his eyes, Alec looked away, out the front windshield as the brothers turned their attention to him, started heading his way. He hoped he wiped whatever emotions that had made it hard to swallow a minute ago off his features when he pretended that he just realized they were near and looked their way. He wanted to give some smart aleck joke, pretend he hadn't heard them but didn't think he could pull off jovial right then so he remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Dean came to a crouch by the open passenger door, eyed up Alec inside. "I realize you're like, super powered and all, but I think you still need your blood to stay on the inside, which it isn't doing," Dean stated, nodding toward Alec's shirt which was getting darker with blood where the cheetah man's claws had dug deep into Alec's side. "We can't risk another hospital visit so it's down to our Winchester version of healthcare," and he opened the tackle box Alec hadn't noticed on the ground before to reveal bandages, a hodgepodge of prescription pill bottles, medical tape, needles and some other interesting items not usually found in a standard first aid kit.

"I've been living in a abandoned nuclear plant for the past year. Let's just assume my standards for …like _anything_ aren't very high," Alec assured Dean with a mocking smirk.

Dean pursued his lips before he agreed, "Yeah, you're probably right." Then Dean pulled a silver flask from his coat pocket and offered it to Alec. "Whiskey do for a pain killer?"

Taking the flask in hand, Alec smiled. "I don't think there's much Whiskey won't fill in for in a pinch." Then he took a liberal swig even as he shifted right until he was facing Dean with his feet settled on the ground. Handing the flask back to Dean, he started to pull his shirt over his head, found hands there pushing his away and then the shirt was slipping over his head and he saw that it was Sam who was his helper. He gave the younger brother a nod and then looked down to inspect the damage as Dean pulled the blood soaked bandage completely free. Saw that it was a bloody mess, couldn't see the stitches through the clotted plasma. He complacently watched as Dean opened a water bottle and soaked a cloth that looked suspiciously like strips of a plaid shirt. Then Dean used his cloth to clear away the blood so they could see what they were working with.

Alec had seen far worse…heck, he had _done_ far worse to his targets. Noticed too that Dean and Sam didn't even blink an eye at the savage wound the cheetah's transgenic's claws had left in their wake.

Getting a good look at the wound, Dean forced himself to not curse as he reminded himself that Alec was hurt because of him, because he had gotten sloppy, hadn't noticed the Cheetah guy's approach…or Alec's presence in the room he entered for that matter. In Purgatory, he'd be toast if he had been that stupidly unaware. This time he hadn't paid for his incompetence …Alec had. "Gotta get the torn stitches out then we'll put new ones in," he announced his plans, didn't look to Alec, couldn't stand to see the kid's pain right then. Renewed pain because he had thought it was _better_ if Alec stayed with him instead of going back to his transgenic friends after getting out of the hospital. ' _Yeah and when has it ever been better if someone stays with you instead of running away as fast as they can?!'_ Dean sardonically berated himself.

And it seemed Dean wasn't the only one blaming himself. "Alec, really…I'm sorry," Sam began, shifting uneasily on his feet. "What happened …your blown stitches, that's my fault. Even the cops showing up and us having to run."

"Don't forget global warming, that's probably you too," Dean interjected, needed Sam to stop trying to take blame, all kinds of blame that wasn't his. "I got Alec into this mess, not you, Sam," he insisted, keeping his head down and his focus on the stitches he was meticulously pulling out with tweezers.

"Dean, you were trying to do the right thing," Sam objected, should have known Dean wouldn't be reasonable about this.

Alec had never had anyone fighting to take blame for him being hurt before, found it was both touching and frustrating. "Doesn't the wounded guy get a say in this? I made my _own_ decisions and trust me, it's still a novel idea, me flying by the seat of my pants instead of following orders. Which means I take all the blame." Here he reached out, gave Dean's knee a bump with his fisted hand to earn the man's eye contact. When he had it, he stressed his point. "You didn't tell me to go mano-e-mano with Marcus, that was my decision."

At Sam's confused look, Dean silently mouthed, "cheetah dude" to his brother before he directed his audible words to Alec. "You wouldn't have had to if I had been on my toes, knew he was coming…heck, realized anybody knew I was watching Terminal City. I screwed up and you paid the price." When Sam and Alec opened their mouths to objected, Dean continued before they could, "Then and back at the motel. I should have been upfront with Sam…trusted him. Then he would have been there at Terminal City …and wouldn't have thought it necessary to cage fight you in the motel room back there. This is all on me."

"What were you saying about global warning?!" Sam snarked back at his brother's attempt to heap all the blame onto his shoulders.

Alec's voice rose to make sure his point was made. "Hey, hey, I'm the injured party and I get the final vote." Causing both brothers to turn to him, wait for his sentencing. At their serious expressions, Alec couldn't help but break out in a beaming smile. "Man, you two do drama even better than Maxie. If anyone should get their teeth kicked in over all this it's Marcus, who, let's face it, already got what he deserves. Then there's your Men of Letters book club, which, my past experience with secret societies says, we should write them off as crazy as loons, not piss them off more than we already have and hope that they lose interest in indiscriminately wiping out my species."

Sam took in Alec's suggestion then gently hazarded, "You really think the Men of Letters suddenly won't care about your transgenic population?"

Alec gave a solemn shake of his head. "Not a chance but I liked the idea, a lot."

"Me too," Sam agreed then they turned to the silent partner in their midst. "Dean?" because Dean had that far away look in his eyes.

"Maybe we tell them the problem's solved, that they don't need to get involved," Dean slowly outlined, a smile starting to turn up his lips.

"They won't believe that you wiped them all out," Sam warned Dean off that notion.

"Not me," Dean agreed before he met Alec's confused gaze. "But the Men of Letters aren't the only ones looking to put you and your friends down, are they?"

Alec's confusion soon turned to appreciated understanding. "White's secret society."

"Who?" Sam asked, knew that Dean and Alec were making a connection he couldn't.

"Let's just say an off the books government agency tasked with making the Manticore project go away, permanently," Alec supplied.

Now Sam was getting the picture, surmised, "If we make Mick believe this other group found you guys at Terminal City…"

Dean smiled broadly. "We're in the clear. I say they beat them to the _freaks_ ," turning to Alec, he said, "No disrespect meant," before he continued, "sanitized all of Terminal City and were in the wind before I could say ' _shared jurisdiction'_."

Sam was nodding his head, liking the idea before his enthusiasm dimmed. "But you were out of contact with them, how are you going to explain that to Mick?"

Here Alec spoke up, but there was a tenseness in his frame now. "White likes to have conversations. Get information from people, play games. It's not out of the realm of possibility for him to have grabbed Dean, wanting to know his involvement with Terminal City, Manticore."

Dean snapped his fingers. "Yeah, he had me a few days …was why I couldn't call Mick. I'll let Sam assume the role of my big dang hero and credit him with "rescuing" me."

"Ok but we don't know the ties the Men of Letters have here. For all we know they are working with White's group," Sam threw into the mix, didn't want to be caught in a lie. Sure, Mick had been all 'let's work together and rid your country of monsters' but Sam sensed there was a dark side to the British Men of Letters and was in no hurry to uncover it. Especially if Dean was at stake.

Alec shook his head. "No, the way your British blokes hate anything not fully human, they wouldn't team up with White."

Looking up from his inspection of the wound for any last strands of stitches, Dean sent a questioning look to Alec at the implications of his statement. "Meaning White's not 100% flesh and blood human?"

"Probably even less than I am," Alec guessed before he clarified. "He's faster, stronger than we are, supposedly considers himself and his cult the perfected version of us."

"But yet he wants you eliminated. That doesn't sound like he's as sure as he says he is that you're the beta to his alpha," Sam theorized.

Dean fought to not roll his eyes as Sam grabbed his chance to play lecturer. "That's fascinating _Professor_ but can we get back to my plan to make them the fall guy."

Sam however wasn't going to be intimidated or rushed into agreeing with the plan. "Dean, we need more information. What if there's a file on White's cult? Mick might not work with them but he might know how they operate, know how an interrogation would go down. If so, he'll know you're lying when you talk about them holding you and asking about the Men of Letters' interest in the transgenics."

As much as Alec wanted to keep his shameful encounter with White a secret from the Winchesters, he knew he couldn't, not if he wanted to not risk their lives. And they had done enough of that for him, for his fellow transgenics. Course he didn't have to tell them his despicable role in the encounter. "I can coach you want to say to the Men of Letters. I know how White would have tried to get you to talk."

That brought the brothers' sharp attention to him but it was Dean who perceptively asked, a tone of worry in his words, "White, he had you, tried to get you to give up your friends?"

And there it was, the topic Alec didn't want to ever shine a light on. "Ah…yeah but…he didn't have me long before I got out." Suddenly Alec felt like perspiration was beading on his forehead at Sam and Dean's intense gaze, as if they knew there was so much he was leaving out, something vital, something dark.

Luckily they didn't call him on it.

"Ok, well…the more facts we can go with the better I'll feel," Sam said, knew that Dean's plans worked, sometimes, but that his brother wasn't as careful as he should be when he thought only his life was at risk.

" _You'll feel_?! I'm the one they'll take out back and bury if they think I'm lying to them," Dean countered, just wanting to harass Sam.

Sam readily corrected Dean. "Hey, I'm now implicated in your story, remember. Probably as easy to dig one large hole for two bodies than one small hole for one body," he deviously implied, counted on Dean to plan more carefully if his little brother's life was on the line too.

"Thought they didn't _have_ firing squads?" Alec teased to Sam, who now had taken up the idea that they would be disposed of it they were caught in this lie.

"Knowing the British, they'll probably water board us with hot tea and poke us with crumpets," Dean snarked, earning a snicker from Alec and a disapproving shaking of Sam's head at his bad humor.

"You think that's Ketch's forte, Dean?" Sam pressed seriously, wanted Dean to not take things so lightly. "Torture by tea and crumpets?"

The mention of Ketch sobered Dean right up, especially thinking of that sadistic hunter with his mom, her trusting him to have her back…when she didn't trust her flesh and blood sons to do that.

Watching the change in Dean's demeanor, Sam cursed himself for taking things too far, for mentioning Ketch at all. "Dean, I didn't mean…."

"I know," Dean cut him off then he focused solely on Alec's wound. "Enough chit chat anyways. We need to get Alec road ready, he'll give me the lowdown on White's interrogation 1, 2, 3s and then I'll call Mick."

And that settled that. Sam knew Dean's mind was made up. They were steam rolling ahead with barely a safety net. What was that saying….as much as things changed, they stayed the same.

SNDASNDA

Though no stranger to unorthodox field medicine, Alec could honestly say he'd never gotten dental floss stitches before. "Glad you went with the minty fresh, I like my wounds to have good breath," he joked even as he clenched tightly to the seat and the door frame as Dean drew the needle through his torn flesh.

"What can I say, crap like that happens when I let Sam do the shopping," Dean said, denying any fault of his for the mint flavoring as he expertly put in the second to last stitch in the wound on Alec's side. Behind him he could hear Sam sigh in exasperation and then 1…2…3… yup there Sam was defending himself.

"Dean, it was a mom and pop mart, they didn't have a lot of selection of floss," Sam recounted the tale for the fifth time to his brother since making that particular shopping run. "And excuse me if I was in a bit of a hurry to get medical supplies and didn't take the time to shop around because your head was practically cracked open."

"See, he loves me," Dean jokingly bragged to Alec before Sam added his zinger.

"Aaaannnnddd I knew you couldn't afford to lose more brain cell than you already have. Then _every day_ I'd have to tell you where you parked the Impala," Sam taunted didn't have to wait for a count of three before Dean was making his standard excuse.

Throwing a look over his shoulder at Sam, Dean growled, "Dude, one time! One time I got turned around! And I swear I had a concussion from that Leviathan we took out."

"More head injuries. Kinda proves my point, Dean," Sam smugly returned giving a conspirator smirk to Alec before watching as his brother expertly finish off his stitch work on the transgenic. He and Dean both had learned a long time ago that distraction was a kindness when you had someone pulling dental floss through your flesh.

Taping a new bandage on the wound, Dean stood, went to the trunk and returned offering a button up shirt to Alec. "Thanks," Alec said, then realized how woefully inadequate that response was. "I mean…for patching me up…not just the shirt," he clarified, didn't know how to deal with this level of indebtedness. Dean had given him his freakin' DNA, albeit unwillingly, now they were on the run from cops and Dean and Sam were putting themselves at risk at becoming on the outs with their employer.

"Shirt's Sam's," Dean smugly revealed shooting Sam a look and enjoying his brother's huff of frustration. "Now we gotta hit the road. We should make good time to the Bunker at this hour," Dean planned as he was crossing to the driver's side of the Impala.

Obediently, Alec slid back inside the car and shut the door even as Sam climbed into the passenger seat. But Dean didn't kick the engine over, instead cursed and pulled out his phone, shot a look to Sam and grumbled, "Might as well get this over with."

But Sam quickly reached over and clamped his hand over his brother's phone. "What are you going to say, exactly."

"Exactly? How should I know. It'll just come to me, better if it's not scripted out like your lame 'reality shows' you watch," Dean volleyed back, trying to tug his phone from Sam's grip but Sam wasn't relenting.

"' _Come to you'_ " Sam repeated with disdain, turning in his seat to face his brother. "Why do I hate the sound of that?! Oh yeah, because you usually do something risky that I don't like and you totally know I wouldn't approve of and that's why you never tell me you're gonna do it."

"Do not," Dean childishly denied.

"Do too!" Sam shot back, matching Dean's tactics. "Now tell me what you're gonna tell Mick, how you'll explain supposedly getting nabbed by this White guy, how I supposedly found you and rescued you. He'll want to know if his group's been compromised, if you told White about them."

"White got the drop on me in the room, like Alec did," Dean began but Sam cut in like the prosecuting lawyer he once dreamed of being.

"Drop on you how? He pull a gun on you, have a few guys rough you up, ask you nicely to talk over coffee? Dean, the details are important, especially if Mick does know something about White and how he operations," Sam insisted, didn't care if Dean thought he was being a jerk, this had to go right. For all their sakes.

Turning in his seat, Dean looked not to Sam but Alec. "So which scenario would White use on me?"

"He likes to be in the foreground, would have some of his lackeys take you down. They are partial to cattle prods. Then when you're down, White makes his appearance," Alec supplied, fought down the shiver at the memories of his abduction, of being helpless on the floor, White coming to stand over him and him knowing he was royally screwed.

Dean and Sam exchanged looks at Alec's description, knew the difference between retelling a tale and reliving a bad memory. Was probably why Dean's next question was asked in a gentler tone, "Where would he take me to interrogate me, he doesn't have a base here so he'd improvise. Would we stay in the motel room?"

"A warehouse…probably," Alec tried to make it sound like it was a guess, when it wasn't.

Not interested in forcing Alec to go down that memory lane any further than he already had, Dean filled in the rest himself. "Ok, so you said White likes games, bartering, so I'll tell Mick that l had to offer up the name of my secret society so White would spare my life. But I drew the line when he wanted me to lead him to my leader. Then before things could get messy, Sam, my hero …" shooting a look to Sam he stressed, " _tracked my phone and found me,_ snuck into the warehouse under White's nose and rescued me. Then we're out and I'm dutifully calling into Mick and retelling my harrowing tale."

It sounded doable, even believable and Alec had faith Dean could pull off lying like it was the truth. But Alec felt like throwing up and it had nothing to do with his wounds or blood loss. He was leaving stuff out, important stuff about White, about how things truly went down when White had him. Details that he had misled Dean on, that might not matter at all…or might expose to the British Men of Letters that Dean was lying. And as much as the three of them joked and were pretending to be like 80% sure there was no firing squad for betraying the Men of Letters, Alec always played it like there _was_ a firing squad. Probably because, in his life, there usually was a firing squad, or a nice dissection waiting in one of the sterile white rooms he had heard too much screaming coming from on his night patrols.

How could he risk Dean's life over his pride? It could cost Dean his life if he kept silent. How could he justify that?! _'I justify it because I don't want to lose Dean's blind trust, Sam's thimble of trust, and I will, they will know I'm not worth saving if they know, if I tell them. And they might not_ _need_ _to know, maybe there is no infamous file on White, maybe my secret makes no difference.'_

In the front seat of the Impala, Dean was dialing on his phone, calling the Mick guy, about to lie, risk his association with them…maybe his life…for Alec, to keep him and Max and Joshua and the other transgenics alive _. 'And I'm replaying that gift by letting him think I told him everything, that his plan is rock solid when I know it's not, has a gaping hole right through it…where the truth of what I did, how pathetic I am comes shining through.'_

"Wait! Wait…just wait!" Alec burst out, leaning forward, hand gripping the back of the front seat cushion, needing to stop Dean from dialing that last number, of trusting him when he shouldn't. When he wasn't worthy of that trust. Relieved when Dean didn't put in that last number, didn't connect the call but heeded his demand and turned to face him, he and Sam both did. But Alec's relief soured into dread at what he was about to do. To destroy all the hopes he had foolishly allowed himself to have when he met Dean, that he could have what others had, deserved to have what others had: Family, a place to belong, love. ' _But I don't deserve it and I'm going to prove it to them right now.'_ What had Dean said, 'We can learn to trust, if you give us a reason too' And he hadn't. At all. Had done the direct opposite.

"I didn't want to die," Alec hoarsely confessed, his breath shaky under the strain of his failings, his shame, the cost now being reaped back on him. Holding Dean's eyes, reading no judgment yet in their green depths, he forced the other words out, the dirty truth he couldn't get away with hiding any longer. "White was going to kill me so I.. …I told him I would …kill transgenics for him. It wasn't his idea…the bartering. It was mine." Watched as his confess sank into Dean's image of him, of what Dean had wanted him to be and he was proving he wasn't.

Dean's jaw clenched at Alec's revelation. He hated that White had backed Alec into a corner where it was his life or someone else's.

Mouth high wire tight at this new information, Sam was stuck on the ramifications if Dean had implied to Mick that _White_ was inclined to offer up choices…when he wasn't. Knew that that detail could have meant the difference between Mick believing Dean and casting Dean out of the Men of Letters or worse. And Alec almost let Dean walk right through that booby trap, knowing the possible outcomes. And some outcomes Alec just wouldn't understand, like Sam's worry that if Dean got booted from the Men of Letters graces…he would drop farther in their mother's estimation too. And Sam couldn't let that happen, for Mary to dare to think less of Dean than she apparently already did of Dean, of him. That was too high a price to pay. For Dean to pay.

Suddenly Sam couldn't stamp down his righteous anger at Alec. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't let Alec hurt Dean, had been ready to _trust_ Alec to protect Dean at his side and Alec had torched all that with his lies. Sam was about to rip Alec a new one but Dean spoke into the void first.

Lowly, Dean confronted Alec, eyes boring into his clone's, "You do it?" Praying that Alec said no, that he hadn't crossed the line Dean had, for Sam, heck, for himself: Taken lives so lives more precious to him were saved.

"Yes," Alec mournfully answered, refused to sugar coat things, had kicked open this hornet's nest now he had to step through it. Flinched when Sam's expression went dark right before he flung open the car door and leaped out like he couldn't stand to be that close to him, began pacing the length of the Impala. And Alec knew Dean had been right, Sam would have given him a shot at earning his trust, had offered to already. But him proving himself evil…it was a deal breaker for Sam. ' _Would be for anyone_ ,' Alec despondently accepted.

Meanwhile Dean was silently shouting " _No_!" in denial and raging disappointment, he still didn't want to believe that Alec had murdered others to save himself. Needed Alec to defend himself, justify what he had done. To somehow make it less horrifying. "Who…what type?!"

Alec didn't pretend to misunderstand. Besides he wanted the opportunity to defend himself that Dean was giving him, even if he didn't merit it. "First was a feral leopard woman. I tried to find other ferals…told myself that they were too dangerous to be out of Manticore anyway."

Dean felt some of the terrible tightness in his chest ease at Alec's answers. "Like Marcus," he surmised.

Shaking his head, Alec remedied Dean's wrong conjecture. "Worse, actually. Manticore's first attempts. Nonverbal, mostly animal, only traces of human DNA." And he knew targeting them made him seem like some hero but he wasn't. "But when I couldn't locate any more ferals…" Alec swallowed hard, felt sick at the memories of almost taking Max and Joshua's lives. "I…I was on a time crunch."

Yanking open Alec's door, Sam stood in the doorway, sharply demanded of Dean's clone, "Time crunch?" He wouldn't let himself hope Alec's story had a happy ending, knew he had to be the ruthless one if Alec had murdered his fellow transgenics. Because Sam could hear the need in Dean's voice, knew his brother wanted so badly for Alec to not be evil, to be someone he could trust, they could trust. For Alec to not be someone else that broke their hearts, broke Dean's heart.

Facing Sam, knew by Sam's fierce expression that he would be the one deciding his fate, Alec explained, "White only gave me a few hours to get three codes or…"

"Codes?" Sam interrogated, didn't want anything to be hazy or unclear when he made his decision about Alec.

Reaching up to tap behind his neck, Alec explained, "Bar codes. We have them on the back of our necks…well, almost all of us do."

"What happens after the time's up? If you didn't show him your kills?" Dean perceptively asked, knew that those type of 'get out of jail free' cards came with a hefty price tag.

Having not perceived getting this far in the telling of his tale before being ejected from the car, Alec wasn't prepared to reveal that significant detail of the consequences if he failed. Looked at Dean in awe that he was insightful enough to guess there was a 'in case of failure' penalty and that he even wanted to hear about it. So when he spoke, it came out numbly, robotic, like he was far removed from the threat that had nearly destroyed any small goodness he clung to. "I die. He set a bomb …"

"To explode in your head, that was what your girl Max was talking about," Dean supplied, didn't know if he felt better or worse learning the context of Max's earlier reference.

"Yeah, implanted at the base of my spine," Alec continued. "Set to off in three hours if I didn't return to White with three bar codes."

Though Alec's very living presence with them now seemed like answer enough, Sam had to ask, would need Dean to hear the unvarnished truth, in case Sam had to do what Dean couldn't. "You get the three kills you needed?" Strangely, Sam found himself holding his breath, knew that, against all the growing proof, he was still praying that Alec wasn't unredeemable, for Dean's sake, if not his own.

Switching his attention again to Sam, Alec emphatically answered, prayed Sam believed him. "No. I.. …I just took this kid's bar code, didn't kill him, dropped him off at the hospital but White…he found out, killed the kid anyways." Alec wished his story ended there, with him being some "soft hearted" guy who just cut up kids, didn't murder them. What a saint, right? But he hadn't resigned himself to dying, to doing the right thing after an innocent boy got murdered because of him. No instead he had been deranged and desperate enough to want to survive that he almost did the unthinkable. Was only inches away from plunging that knife in Max's heart…instead of the ground.

Facing Dean, Alec told the rest of it, the worst of it. "Time was running out for me and I…I attacked Max, Joshua, my _friends_ , almost…almost…." Alec couldn't even choke out 'killed them', 'murdered them'. It was too horrible, to despicable, too evil. Suddenly there wasn't enough air in the Impala, wasn't enough space separating him from Sam from Dean. Surging from the Impala, he shoulder checked by Sam, did a stumbled walk against the Impala to the trunk, trying to breath, to not vomit all over the pavement, to drown out the voice in his head telling him over and over again that he should have refused Max's help, should have let the bomb go off in his head. That would have been justice.

At Alec's unexpected exit, uncannily like Sam's a few minutes prior, Dean hopped out of the car, circled it until he came to the trunk, where Alec leaned against the Impala's frame…ironically the location he and Sam often sought out for some of their tough talks. Dean saw Sam coming to Alec's other side, their eyes met over the transgenic's miserable hunched form. Crap but they got this, understood it in ways they didn't want either of them to. Neither of them had been able to spare each other this type of guilt, to head off how evil the other had gone…how very close they had come to going all the way and never coming back. Sam drinking demon blood and nearly choking his own brother to death, Dean making a deal with Death to be dropped into the void and all set to murder Sam to make sure his brother's unreservedly devotion to him didn't give him the power to stop him or get him back.

Each brother claimed a spot on either side of Alec. Dean broke the silence with a declaration not a question. "But you didn't. You didn't kill them."

Running a hand through his hair, Alec choked out, "No but…."

Exhaling in relief at the good turn of the story, Sam sought out the missing pieces, "Alec, what happened with the bomb in your head?" his tone soft, prodding, found he wanted Alec to think of something other than his past sins that he couldn't change.

Thoughts derailed at Sam's unexpected gentle tone and question, Alec stammered, "Max..one of the friends I almost wasted, when I told her what was happening, she ended up knowing this ex-Manticore Doctor. He got the bomb out in time."

Seeking the last pieces of the puzzle before he could allow himself to stand down, Sam pressed, "But you didn't know that before you spared her life, did you? About the doctor, a way for you to not die."

Dazedly Alec shook his head, "No…I just….decided dying was better than betraying the only friends I had, of becoming what White wanted me to become. It was bad enough what I was for Manticore."

"And what was that?" It was Dean who asked that hard question.

Looking out across the parking lot the Impala sat in instead of the two men at his side, Alec acknowledged what he had been born and bred to be. The only reason he had been created at all. "An assassin. A soldier who blindly followed orders, no matter if it felt right in my gut or not. Because I wanted to belong, wanted to matter to someone, be needed, didn't want to be alone."

Now it was Dean's turn to sigh in heartbreak and shame, the action drawing Alec's uncertain gaze to fall on him. "Guess Lydecker got what he wanted from me after all," Dean bitterly recognized. Then Dean looked to his clone, knew what Alec just said, it was who Dean had been with his dad: A killer, a soldier who blindly followed orders, who couldn't bear being alone, would do anything to ensure that wasn't his fate. He had been worse than the Men Of Letters, hell, he'd bet on that version of him up against Ketch any day. Damn nature vs nurture for condemning Alec to that same character flaw.

But Alec's face screwed up in confusion and he was about to ask Dean to explain but Sam spoke up instead, didn't want Dean to hate himself for being a loyal son, for passing that loyalty trait onto Alec. "Dean, it isn't the same thing. He was your _dad_."

"Yeah and Mary's our mom and I know when she's wrong, to not follow _her_ ," Dean spat, hated that he hadn't been smart enough to say no to his dad, not one friggin' time.

"Dean, you were a kid," Sam protested set to defend his brother with his last breath. "Dad had you grooming to be a hunter at friggin' four years old! You were dependent on him, on his…his love and acceptance. We couldn't survive without him, not you, not me. And you had me to look out for, not just yourself. You did what you thought was right."

Dean snorted resentfully. "Tell that to the things I killed without ever stopping to decide if they deserved to die! Dad said they were evil and needed to die and that was good enough for me. You at least had a brain to decide on your own, had a heart…a soul to see good in them."

Sam was chagrined at remembering how it had ended with so many of those people. "Right, in Amy, in Lenore?" he drawled with dark cynicism. "Look where that great discernment of mine got us. Both of them started killing people again, Dean. And those deaths are on me. My judge of character sucks, remember?"

"Sammy," Dean started to protest Sam's logic, his ploy to give him a free pass for what he had been, the blood on his hands. It was why he refused to follow the Men of Letters code of biased hatred. He had enough blood on his hands, deserved and undeserved, wouldn't put more there carelessly.

"No, Dean. Just…no. I'm not going to let you heap all that blame on yourself," Sam refuted was gratified when Alec joined in.

"Yeah and my decision to be a heartless assassin for Manticore, that's on me, not you, Dean. Wasn't wired into the DNA, was me making choices, bowing to Manticore's manipulations."

But even Sam couldn't agree with Alec's sentiments. "Come on Alec, you were a kid too."

Here Dean joined in. "Yeah and as pissed as Dad got at me, I knew he wouldn't put me down like a rabid dog…cat, in your case. Can you say the same about your nurturing guardians, Alec?!" Had put enough of the pieces together of what Alec told him and didn't say to get a pretty grim picture of Manticore's version of a twisted combo of child rearing and boot camp.

Not wanting Dean or Sam's pity, or to dwell on his crappy upbringing or apparently theirs, Alec chose another path. "Too bad Oprah's off the air, us arguing about whose life was more messed up would be a ratings dream come true."

For a moment, Dean wanted to forsake Alec's deflection, wanted to set the kid right on whose fault his life was…but even if he took all the blame, Sam would get back on his high horse of defending him, wouldn't stop talking until he agreed how wrong he was and how right Sam was. It was easier to concede to Alec's desire to make light of the crap that was their lives. "Right, they probably would say it's clearly a case of us not getting enough hugs from monsters as kids."

"Clearly," Sam sardonically agreed, would thank Alec one day for not letting Dean lay claim to even more guilt than he usually did. Let it up to Dean to want to feel guilty for how his friggin' clone's life had turned out, a clone he didn't set out to create or give his consensus to have created in the first place! Enjoyed the identical smirks his agreement brought to Dean and Alec's lips.

Then the three of them stood there, shoulder to shoulder for a moment, unified. Dean broke away first, pushed off the Impala's trunk and tiredly ran a hand through his hair and announced, "Day light's about gone and I have Mick to call yet so can we stow the chick flick marathon and get out of Wyoming?"

Alec and Sam purposely turned to each other in silent consultation before they gave an in synch nod before joining Dean in his migration toward the car's interior. "Yeah, good, glad we got that all settled," Dean grumbled as he sank into the driver's seat of his baby and shut the door. But he took a steadying breath before he picked up his discarded phone and this time he completed his dialing to Mick, knew it was show time when Mick's British accent greeted his call. Then he let the lies roll off his tongue, thought he was deserving of an Oscar when he was done…right until Mick insisted he stop off at the Men of Letters compound to complete his debriefing in person.

And there seemed no good, unsuspicious way for him to avoid that face to face meeting. As he ended the call, Dean cursed, found his brother and clone were saying the same curse he was. So much for him grabbing an Oscar for his winning performance as a gifted liar.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and your wonderful reviews on last chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	6. Lie Like You Mean It

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

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Chapter 6: Lie Like You Mean It

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Surging out of the Impala, Dean slammed the driver's door, hard. It told Sam just how pissed off and frustrated Dean was, had him leaving the car too and again meeting his brother at the trunk. By the time he got there, Dean was already rummaging around in their weapons cache. Before Sam could confront Dean on what he was looking for both brothers heard the back door open, knew Alec's intentions and commanded in synch "Stay in the car, Alec!" neither wanting Alec to continue to push his physical limitations with his wounds.

"I'm not a dog, remember. Cat…and cats don't sit on command!" Alec groused not shutting the door but he didn't move from the car.

Detecting the hurt slipping through Alec's tone, Sam sighed, was torn between stopping Dean's frantic search in the car for a weapon to probably blow Mick's brain's out and making sure Alec didn't think they were being harsh to him for harsh's sake. He managed to do both by putting a restricting hand down on the grenade launcher Dean seemed to be reaching for and gently tossing out to Alec, "Alec just…you need to rest, ok."

Alec gave a petulantly, "Fine," but didn't close the door, wanted to be a part of whatever was happening with Dean and Sam back there. Was giving himself free license to leave the friggin' car if things between the brothers got too intense and he needed to put in his two cents into whatever was happening.

Able to focus on Dean wholly, Sam noted that Dean had abandoned his reach for the grenade launcher, thank Chuck, but was still rummaging around, clearly on the search for something. Wasn't prepared for Dean to pull a Taser gun free of the dark depths of the trunk and turn and give him a triumphant smile, like he found a wayward fry at the bottom of a McDonald's bag.

Suddenly Sam felt cold all over. "What the hell, Dean?!" he shouted, latching onto the Taser and tugging it from Dean's loose grip. Then he proceeded to waive the Taser in Dean's face. "You said you got rid of this!"

In a put upon patient tone, Dean drawled, "Nnnnoooo.. I got rid of the ones we had back then. This one's new."

Sam was so furious he couldn't see straight, ending up pointing an accusing finger at Dean, which never made things better. "You _knew_ I didn't want any of these around. You _knew_ that!"

And yup, Sam's pointing at him made Dean's blood pressure boil over. "Yeah, well, it's a weapon Sam! And case you forgot, that's the tools of our trade! And it's a good thing I have that because now we need it!"

Sam's outraged tone went up an octave, "Need it for what, Dean?!"

"You heard Alec! White likes to stun his captives. I go to Mick all in one piece, no electric burn marks to prove my story, and he'll know I'm lying before we even get to the fairy tale part where you had to rescue me."

But Sam was resolutely shaking his head. "No."

"Yes, Sam. He doubts my story or else I wouldn't be getting called into the principal's office. I need evidence that White had me," Dean argued his point.

Sam waved the Taser again in Dean's face, unwaveringly decreed, "We're not using this on you, Dean."

Taking pity on his brother because he knew why Sam was so set against the Taser, Dean dropped his defensive stance and softened his tone, "Sam…last time was just …bad luck."

Referencing the last time they used Taser guns, out loud, had Sam swallowing hard and shuffling on his feet. His voice was shaken when he could form words. "Bad luck?!" he incredulously repeated Dean's description. "Dean, you …you fried your heart, were …"

"Was a dead man walking?" Dean glibly supplied, pulling on a smirk. "Who knew that was going to be just the first of many times I was that, huh? Well, then there was me being dead dead. A good magician always ups the ante, right? Manages to top his last death defying stunt."

That cut too deeply for Sam, Dean's last "death" trying to kill Amara still radiating echoes of grief through him and now remembering the first time he thought his brother was going to die, before they had any history of not …you know, staying dead. Latching one handedly onto Dean's jacket, Sam pinned Dean against the Impala, snarled between clenched teeth, "Don't! Don't joke about that. Any of it."

Meeting Sam's tortured gaze, Dean knew he was being an inconsiderate bastard, especially considering how well he would take Sam being amused about his little brother's numerous deaths, real or perceived. So with a voice striving to be reasonable, Dean pointed out his logic. "Sam, if they doubt my story, I'll get way worse than a Taser burn. We both know that."

Sam seriously looked like he wanted to hit something because he knew Dean wasn't wrong. Huffing out a curse he roughly released Dean, took a step back from his brother. Sam hated that Dean was the one looking apologetic as he raised the Taser, pointed it at his brother. "I do this, you damn well better show them the damage."

"Scout's honor, I'll strip naked if they ask me too," Dean tried to lighten the mood but Sam's jaw wasn't unclenching.

From his position in the car, Alec tensed, wished he knew another way to back up their tale, a way that didn't hurt Dean. And yeah, he knew a Taser wasn't lethal, wasn't even the worst pain that could be dished out, but by Sam and Dean's conversation they had history with electrocution, bad history, history that scorched into your soul so it was unforgettable. Like fear, like loss.

Hand tightening on the Taser grip, Sam stipulated, "After this, this thing gets tossed in a dumpster and you don't get another. Deal?"

Dean was opening his mouth to agree to that when Sam pulled the trigger and two wires sprang forward and latched onto Dean's chest. And then, for Dean, there was just pain. He felt himself falling to the ground, thrashing there. Was somehow glad he didn't tell Sam this wasn't the first time he had another run in with a Taser, that that sheriff in Grangeville, Idaho zapped him when he wanted to go back and get Sam. Retrieve Sam's _body_. Because he thought Sam was dead, that he had lost him, that his little brother would never be at his side again. And that so wasn't a great memory to keep him company when unconsciousness dragged him down into the black void.

Dean would mock him for it if he knew, but Sam had looked away and closed his eyes the second the wires hit his brother, didn't want another image of Dean being hurt, of him hurting Dean to be burned forever into his memories. Honestly, he had far too many of them already. Good Intentions be damned.

"You alright?" a voice startled him, a voice _almost_ Dean's. A little younger, a little less guarded, but surprisingly still carrying that gentle concern Dean's did when he knew his little brother was hurting emotionally.

Opening his eyes, manning up and looking down at Dean's still body on the ground, Sam hoarsely brushed aside Alec's concern, "Yeah, yeah, fine." Then he cleared his throat like it was a cold coming on instead of emotions choking him up, glad Alec was still in the car, wasn't there to read his expression, see the lie. Jaw clenching, he crouched down beside his unconscious brother but couldn't not put his fingers to Dean's pulse point in his neck, could finally draw in a full inhale of air when the rhythm drumming against his fingers confirmed that Dean was alive, that his heart wasn't….'badly damaged.'

And crap he so didn't need to hear that doctor's words again rattling away in his head, remembered that fear, the _first_ fear of losing Dean forever. Even after all these years, all the other ways he had feared losing Dean, heck, that he had _lost_ Dean…this memory still had the power to tear him down. Again Alec's voice came from the car. "Need help with him?"

"Ah…no. I've got him," Sam replied aloud while internally he bitterly told himself ' _you break him, you carry him.'_ Then with care, he grabbed Dean's arms, levered Dean's boneless form off the ground and over his shoulder before he stood up, made the journey to the Impala's passenger door.

From his vantage point in the back seat, Alec watched Sam crouch down, tuck his hand behind Dean's neck and then carefully deposit his brother into the passenger seat. Did it with so much practiced ease that Alec knew Sam had done it before, lots of times. And for some reason, that insight twisted something in Alec's gut. Made him feel ….pain.

' _Great, lose a little blood, skip a few bowls of milk, almost die and I'm going all soft,'_ Alec berated himself. He had once told Max that they were a danger to humans…he was starting to see it worked both ways actually. Because these _particular_ humans were a danger to him, to his carefully forged barriers against making emotional connections, of showing preferences to anyone, to letting anyone take a shot in the dark and guess he care about someone besides himself. In just two short days, hours in Sam's case, they were undoing all the hardwiring Manticore had installed into his brain about weaknesses, being one and having one.

He hadn't noticed that Sam had closed the passenger door and crossed to the driver's side, and now sat behind the wheel, yet to turn over the engine. Instead Sam's eyes met his in the rearview mirror. "Why did you ask if I was alright? Dean's the one that got …" Sam caught himself before saying electrified…or hurt.

Alec's fought back a shrug, didn't really want to downplay his reasonings. "I think it falls under…it hurt you more than it hurt him."

Sam's face contorted into a protest and his eyes skipped over to Dean's still unconscious form. "Doubt that."

But Alec didn't. "I've hurt enough people to know…sometimes they forgive us more than we'll ever forgive ourselves." And the list of people he had hurt, it was long…and not just at Manticore's bidding. And Max, Joshua, they were right up there at the top but they had forgiven him …for freaking almost murdering them to save his own hide. Which made what Sam did today, such the opposite of what he had inside him. "Besides, Dean knows you wouldn't have chosen to do that to him. Didn't want to. At all."

Lowly, Sam bit out with self-hatred, "I've done worse." Said only to himself, ' _To Dean, to the world, to everyone I've ever loved, who's ever loved me.'_ Because Alec didn't know half of the sins he had committed, in the name of love, yes but of ego too and then there was the manipulation of fear so decimating that death would be a kindness. And it ticked him off that fear again was at the heart of today's fiasco, his fear of the Men of Letters, of what they might do to Dean if they knew the truth, of how much worse they might be making things by slapping a lie over Dean's decision to save Alec and the other transgenics.

Alec didn't have a comeback for Sam's dark announcement. Something in Sam's tone told him Sam wasn't overstating whatever hurts he had done to Dean in the past. Least Sam didn't think he was. What Dean would say about Sam's statement if he wasn't in lala land…Alec wasn't sure…and that just made everything uncertain. Hadn't they just established he was the bad guy, they were just being nice and giving him a nature vs nuture pass?! Now Sam wanted to turn everything upside down and claim to be the bad guy?!

Before Alec could put his head around the happening and revelations of the past ten minutes, Sam threw over his shoulder, "Ready to go?" like they both hadn't just been neck deep in dark ruminations a second ago. Numbly Alec shut the car door and then Sam was hitting the gas, sending loose gravel spinning in their wake as they left the abandoned gas station's parking lot and got back onto the road, heading toward Dean's trial by fire by the Men of Letters.

As far as road trip destinations, Alec guessed this one sucked by anyone's standards.

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Dean came too with a groan, unknowingly causing Sam to wince in sympathy and guilt in the driver's seat of the Impala. But Sam wiped the expression from his face as Dean's eyes blinked into focus. He offered a goading smirk to his brother. "Took you long enough to wake up. Apparently you are a lightweight when it comes to live wires."

Whatever Alec envisioned Sam's first words to Dean would be, it wasn't those! He had watched Sam watching Dean every chance he could steal his eyes from the road, knew Sam was worried about his brother's health, that he felt guilty for pulling the trigger. So this….this criticism so wasn't what he was expecting from Sam. Holding his breath from his position in the back seat of the car, he wondered how Dean would react to the ridicule, ready and willing to rat out Sam's true feelings if Dean's tone came out even the slightest bit wounded.

Shifting upright in his seat, biting back more groans as every single limb he owned ached, Dean grumpily retorted to his brother's barb with a lame, "You're the …the lightweight."

Sam snorted. "Good comeback," but he could feel the tension flowing out of his nerves. Knew that Dean's petulantly rejoinder meant his brother, sadly, was firing on all cylinders. He smiled at his own personal joke at Dean's expense which Dean caught him at.

"What?!" Dean snapped at his brother but it was Alec who offered an explanation.

"Oh that's Sam's way of showing he's glad you're with it enough to provide such witty repertoire," Alec drawled, didn't even try to conceal the merriment in his tone, was feeling the joy of relief as well as Sam.

"Hold up, I thought we agreed you'd be on my side," Dean childishly grumbled to Alec.

"He might look like you but apparently he's got the common sense Dad passed onto me too," Sam enjoyed this, him and Alec united in messing with Dean.

"Common sense is overrated," Dean muttered.

"Rrriggght, only people who don't have common sense would say that," Sam chided with a chuckle.

"Hey, can we stop picking on me and get me to the stupid Men of Letters compound so I can get this over with." And Dean pointed to the road they were traveling down, telling Sam to cover the miles quicker than he already was.

"I thought it might actually be helpful, I don't know, Dean, if you were conscious when we got there," Sam shot back, some of his worry that had settled over him for the length of time Dean was out of it resurfacing.

Into this conversation, Alec proposed, "About that, I think they'll notice if your clone waits in the car while you two go into the British lair for your debriefing about how you terminated my kind."

"Everyone's a comedian," Dean said under his breath before he announced, "We'll drop you off at a motel an hour out from the compound. You can rest there until we're done licking Mick's boot for the day. Excuse me, **I'm** done licking his boots."

Still feeling distinctly responsible for getting Dean roped into working with the Brits, because he was, Sam expressed his regret again. "I get it, you don't like this. I didn't think things would go this way."

Dean took pity on Sam. "We don't know what way that is, Sam. We're reacting to what we think they might do but we don't know."

"But you're still not taking a chance trusting them, right?" Alec cross examined, found he wasn't fearing for himself or Max or the others but for Dean, what the Brits would do to him, especially since he'd be in their clutches, unlike Alec and the other transgenics.

"I didn't let Sammy light me up like a pinball machine for my health," was Dean's idea of assuring Alec that the plan was still a go. "Speaking of …" and Dean looked down at his chest for the first time, pulled his shirt down to reveal two burn marks on his chest. "Looks real enough."

"Because it is Dean," Sam grimly reminded, though he knew Dean didn't need it. Knew Dean was in pain, though his brother wouldn't admit it, especially since he knew that would heap more guilt onto his little brother. So instead of trying to get Dean to do that impossible feat, he handed the pain pill bottle he had lying on the front seat to his brother. Before Dean could protest that he needed something as stupid as pain pills, Sam demanded, "Dean, just take the pills. Be nice if you were close to being on your A game when you talk to Mick."

"Hey, I'm awesome even when I'm on my F Game," Dean boasted.

At that Alec made the effort to lean forward and offered Dean the remains of the bottle Dean had given to him earlier. "Take the pills, your F game is scaring me."

"Fine," Dean muttered even he took the pills with a healthy swallow of water. "I'm starting to feel my talents are being very unappreciated."

"Aawww, but we love you anyway, right Sam?" Alec joked back, wasn't expecting the air to still in the car before Sam stiffly rejoined with a .."Ah, yeah, right." Alec's didn't know what he had said wrong, he clearly knew Sam loved his brother so it wasn't like he said…

Seeing the consternation on Alec's features in the rearview mirror, Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't hurt your super brain. Sammy and I save the "L" word for suicide hunts, apocalypses and coming back from the dead. You know 'break in case of emergency' stuff." And he saw the light bulb coming on in Alec's demeanor. Sure Sammy and him loved each other…didn't mean they threw it out there on a Wednesday just because they could. But then again, Alec had thrown his lot into that statement…which was just sinking into Dean.

"It shouldn't be," Sam finally managed, shooting a look to Dean and another into the rearview mirror to Alec. "An end of the world, we're dying thing. It should be…"

"No, it shouldn't," Dean denied, shaking his head, had no idea how this chick flick moment had been sprung on him, by Alec no less. Supposedly the "science project without a heart", yeah, Alec would have to sell that to someone who was buying because Dean wasn't. "Now more driving and less chick flicking…"

"What's chick flicking?" Alec asked and Dean sighed while Sam smirked. It was going to be a long ride until he got to the comparable safety of the British's interrogation techniques after this ongoing torture.

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When Manticore burned to the ground, Alec had stood on that hill, overlooking the destruction and felt….unanchored, lost…abandoned. He would only realize later that Manticore started the fire, not Max, that they sought to destroy their creatures rather than let them escape or be revealed to the world. It was a bitter pill to swallow but he chastised himself for not seeing it all along. For wanting them to value him, for trying to hang onto the belief that things were fine the way they were, he had accepted his purpose in life and it was Max who had screwed everything up.

But for however bereft he had felt watching Manticore burn, watching Dean and Sam drive away felt much worse. And it wasn't all about his worry about them pulling off their deception. No it was worry they wouldn't come back for him, wouldn't choose to come back for him. Would take this opportunity to say good riddance to bad luggage. After all, he didn't know the location of the Men of Letters compound, didn't know even what state their Bunker, their home, was in. Cutting him loose posed no threat to them, only gains.

Instantly he felt horrible for those thoughts. Hadn't Dean and Sam proven themselves loyal to him in so many ways in the two days they had known each other!? No it was just his good ole insecurities running rampant with his imagination. And ok, yeah, there was that pit in his stomach that they wouldn't be able to come back for him. That their scam, the one he was the information broker for, would get detected and then Dean and Sam would face that supposed "non-existent" firing squad. Ok, so maybe it was worry for them that was just making him sick in the stomach.

Course then he was sentenced to camping out in a motel to "rest and recuperate", like rest would come easy with his worry sending adrenaline through his body. Yeah, sure, he would just nod off while Dean and Sam put themselves in danger, for him. Then there was the nagging memory of what his stupid parting words to Dean and Sam had been?! Said because he didn't want to show his fear, maybe say something sentimental without really meaning to reveal how attached he was to the two brothers. So instead of being truthful, with them or himself, he offered up a joke, the old try and true Alec, the coward making a great show. "Remember…never let them see you sweat."

"Wait, did you just quote a deodorant commercial to me?" Dean incredulously asked even as Sam put the Impala into motion. Then Alec was waving to the Winchester's car taillights as he was left behind. Alone. And suddenly this was a terrible, new level of aloneness that Alec didn't like, not one bit.

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The blinding whiteness of the interior of the British Men of Letters compound was its own torture technique in Dean's mind. Was like one of those sci-fi films where they set up a sterile white lab to study the supposedly dead aliens they had found…and all too soon the white walls were decorated in human blood splatters as the so-not-dead-enough aliens went on a merry earthling killing spree.

Geez didn't the Brits watch any decent sci-fi?!

"Stop fidgeting …" Sam commanded under his breath as they strode down the hallways.

"Stop bumping into me," Dean hissed back, shoulder-checking Sam a little so his brother would give him some space in the narrow hallways. "You're all about going British so _you_ stay on the left side of the road."

Before Sam could retort to that accusation, they were met in the hallway by one of Mick's researchers. "yes, Mick is waiting for you in his office. Just go down the hall to the third passageway on the right…" She began.

But Dean gruffly cut her off, "Yeah, we've had the tour," before walking by her.

Sam gave the researcher an apologetic smile for his brother's brutish behavior before trotting a bit to come even with Dean's pace again. "Dean, we're here to keep things civil, remember?" Sam lowly chastised, his brother's attitude not helping the knots in his gut about the upcoming debriefing.

Dean gave a non-committal "uh huh" back that didn't make Sam feel one iota better. Then they were making the turn, negotiating that hallway and entering the main hub of the compound. Stalking past the map room and the other offices lining the walls, Sam and Dean came to a stop in front of Mick's desk. "So we're here, as ordered," Dean irritably announced, causing Mick's head to come up from the paper he was reading to eye his "subordinates".

He didn't notice when Sam purposely stepped on Dean's foot, _hard_ , to silently tell his brother to play nice. But he did notice that Dean's pallor was off a mite and there was a dullness in his eyes that wasn't usual with the intense older brother of the Winchester clan. Though Dean's gruff tone worked hard to conceal his weakness. All of it gave credence to Dean's report that he had encountered hostiles at the Terminal City assignment.

"Ah, yes, let's move to the conference room for the debriefing," Mick announced, coming to his feet and signaling to a nearby woman. "Helena, bring tea to the conference room and some …" here he consulted the Winchesters, "Coffee?"

"Yeah, that would be nice," Sam congenially replied, giving Mick and Helena a perfunctorily smile. Then he followed Mick with Dean behind him as Mick headed down another hallway and led them into a room with a table, a few chairs and a computer monitor on the walls that wasn't turned on. Mick gestured to the chairs and Sam and Dean claimed ones side by side while Mick purposefully chose the chair across the table from them, making sure they knew who was in charge, the "Principal" and who the recalcitrant school children in this scenario were.

"You said that someone got the jump on you while you were monitoring the shapeshifters in Terminal City. I need you to tell me what you can about the people who had you." Then Mick, his hands clasped together on the table top, stared at Dean across the table, waiting for the other man to speak like this was a great inquisition.

Dean bristles at the demeaning "jump on you" description, though, to be truthful, that was what Alec and even Cheetah man had done. Didn't mean he liked the reprimand in Mick's tone. Course he had to hold back his smirk at Mick's continued misassumption that Terminal City was populated by shapeshifters. _'If he only knew.'_ And that thought got Dean's mind back on track. He was there to make sure Mick and his British cronies _never_ knew what and who had really been squatting in the abandoned warehouse in Seattle.

"They were militarized, didn't mind playing rough," at that point Dean pulled down his shirt to reveal the Taser burns, "and were so not into sharing the credit for exterminating the shifters in Terminal City."

"Any insignias on their uniforms? Any military or diplomatic IDs on their car license plates?" Mick pressed, eyes narrowed, hopefully in concentration and not suspicion.

"Nope," Dean unhelpfully replied.

Sam decided to expand on his brother's reply. "None that we saw. And the warehouse they had Dean in was just a derelict building, seemed a spur of the moment choice to take Dean."

"Right, and they took you why?" Mick asked of Dean. "They already knew where the shifters were, what did they need from you?"

"Who I worked for. How I even knew about shapeshifters. Like you and your group, they thought they were the end all be all of monster exterminators," Dean snidely said, felt Sam stiffen in the chair beside him but he didn't shoot his brother a look. He was going to play this out the way he saw fit and Sam could scream at him later about it.

Mick didn't react to the obvious criticism of his precious Men Of Letters, instead drew a recorder from his pocket and sat it on the table. "Ok, then let's get down to it. All the details about them you know and any information you might have let slip under duress."

"Under duress…that's a good one," Dean shot back with a fake snort before leaning forward in his chair, pinning Mick with his gaze. "Ok, the run down is this. Man in charge was a white guy, around 40, military short cut brown hair, your build, few words but he made them count. Had five men with him who only spoke to him and I never heard what they said. Vehicles were black SUVs, standard plates, their inspections weren't even outdated."

Mick calmly turned to Sam. "Anything to add to that description?"

"I saw two more men outside the warehouse on the north side. Regular patrols like they thought they might need to secure their location," Sam added, thought it a nice touch to counter the number of soldiers that Dean had supplied, made it seem less practiced…or fabricated.

"But you managed to sneak in there, rescue your brother all without detection?" Mick pressed, a touch of incredulousness in his tone.

Sam opened his mouth to simply reply in the affirmative but Dean spoke first. "Yeah, Sam's part Ninja, we're all very proud," he sarcastically drawled before he growled, "Hello, this isn't our first day on the job! Thought you did your homework on us! You know, America's Most Wanted, us evading and escaping from police and federal agents for _year_ s. Any of that ringing a bell with you?"

Sam complacently put a hand on Dean's forearm, hoping to stall Dean's flow of words. "What Dean means is….this wasn't out of the normal for us. When you said you lost contact with Dean, I tracked his phone, found him and got him out of there. We went back to see if Terminal City was still inhabited and it was a ghost town. Then we called you."

"Ok. But you still didn't tell me what you told them? They had you for hours and I am assuming you weren't talking statistics of your great American favorite sport: football."

Dean maliciously corrected Mick. "It's baseball…America's favorite sport. And we actually did discuss that. He was a Mets fan so we didn't really hit it off all that well."

"Dean, just answer his question," Sam implored trying to be the peacekeeper.

"He's accusing me of being a snitch, Sam," Dean railed at Sam before turning back to Mick. "If I sold you out, told them where this oh so high security modular home hidey hole was, do you think I'll set one foot in here, let Sam set one foot in here? Your secret storage unit condo is as secure as it ever was." When Mick opened his mouth, intending to restate his question, Dean snapped, "Solo hunter. That's what I told them I was. Not a card carrying member to Hunters Are Us. Me, myself, and I."

Mick took the information and Dean's spitefulness in quiet reflection before he pointed out. "Well you and your accomplice that helped you escape. And if there are two of you…they may make the right assumption that there's more of you."

"Ah for pete sake! I didn't tell them anything about you or your uptight club! You don't believe me, fine, not like this was barrels of fun working with you anyway." Then Dean was on his feet, stalking for the door, leaving Sam stunned and still seated for a moment.

"Dean, wait!" Sam called as he came out of his stupor and to his feet, hadn't expected Dean to act out like this. Wasn't the point of fabricating the whole White's group abducting Dean and taking the residents of Terminal City to make sure they stayed on good terms with the Men of Letters, that Dean did?! To Mick he entreated, "Let me talk to him."

Mick just gave a silent nod and then Sam was out the door, almost knocked over a nerdy researcher in his haste to catch up with Dean. Which he did in the last hallway leading out of the compound. Grabbing Dean's arm he yanked his brother to a halt, knew he couldn't say what he truly wanted to, not with the surveillance he suspected was in the compound so he settled on, "What was that! Why'd you blow things out of proportion!" For the ears listening, he tacked on, sticking to their White tale, "Mick knew you didn't leak their location, he just wanted to see how you'd react if he accused you of leaking it! And you reacted, badly."

And Dean could act as well as react, he did so now. "You heard him, Sam. He doesn't trust me. Well, screw him because I don't need their high tech weapons, we were doing just fine on our own. But ..wait, our ways aren't good enough for you…or mom. Well, you know what Sam, you stay, pick out a pod place to sleep. Enjoy being one of the zombie followers who can't bother to think for themselves what is right and what is wrong." Then Dean yanked his arm from Sam's grip, stalked down the hallway and slammed his way out the door.

Again stunned at his brother going off script, way off script, Sam was about to storm after Dean and get the real lowdown when someone called his name, _his mother_ called his name. Turning, his face went white when he saw that Mary stood at the other end of the hallway, and her expression said that she had heard most if not all of Dean's theatrics. Cursing silently and repeatedly, Sam begrudgingly didn't go after Dean, instead waited for Mary to approach. Began to wonder if Dean had seen Mary there and did his big drama scene anyway…maybe even _because_ Mary was there to hear. Crap, he was going to kill his brother when he caught up with him.

"Mom," Sam aloofly greeted, still wasn't willing to give her full pardon after she had broken Dean's heart and his by lying to their faces and working on the sly with the Brits. Sure, he had tricked Dean into working with the Brits without telling him but….that was different right?!

"What's happening with Dean? I know Mick was going to debrief him but Mick does trust you both, I know he does," Mary pleaded Mick's case. And that made Sam's jaw clenched, that she would think Mick was on the side of right and not Dean.

" _Saying_ you trust someone isn't the same thing as actually _trusting_ them," Sam shot back even as he chewed himself out for taking the defensive stance. Tried to soften his meaning with a put upon sigh, "If Mick trusts us, he certainly doesn't let it show." Made sure Mary got the "us" part of the statement, meaning him and Dean, the package deal no matter what Dean had said moments ago about him staying and Dean going.

Certain that Sam was talking about her even more than he was Mick, Mary felt her temper flaring. "It's hard to trust someone who's so busy resenting you that they don't let you tell them anything. I thought you at least understood what Mick and the others can accomplish, that we can accomplish together. It can't be about hurt pride, not when we can rid the world of monsters."

Stung at Mary's 'hurt pride' dig, Sam swallowed, knew it wasn't his pride that had been shredded apart by Mary, it was something a little harder to piece back together than ones ego. "Guess it depends on what you call a monster," and his thoughts went to Alec, who the Men of Letters would have exterminated without hesitation. "Dean and I have learned that actions, intentions, that's what determines good from bad. It isn't human versus not human, or skill set, or appearances…or words." Silently he tacked on 'or _DNA'_ because suddenly it was clear that familial connections weren't to be trusted either because as far as he was concerned, he trusted Alec more right then than he'd ever trust Mary again. Especially with something priceless like his heart, or Dean's heart. When Mary stood speechless, he spun on his heels and ran for the door, praying to catch up with Dean before the idiot left the compound without him.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

As it was, Sam had to leap in front of the Impala and slam his hands down on the hood to ensure Dean halted his getaway from the compound grounds. As the Impala rocked as it was cruelly stopped on a dime, Sam stormed to the driver's side even as Dean rolled down the window.

Together they shouted, "What are you doing!?"

But Sam beat Dean to the next breath of air and shouted, knew for a fact that the surveillance cameras for the outside of the compound were visual only, no audio. "That was not the plan, Dean! We had Mick eating out of our hands and you blew it! And don't tell me it was ' _hurt pride'_ ," snidely throwing his mother's patronizing words at Dean.

"No!" Dean hotly denied before he gritted between his teeth, "It was strategy Sam! "

"No, we had a strategy and you screwed it all up. Now you stumped out of there for everyone to see…" But Sam faltered, started to put the pieces together and not liking it. Said in a cold furious told. "But that was your plan…all along. To get yourself kicked out."

Dean smiled, knew his brother would catch on but his smile only incited Sam's fury, so he wiped it off his face. "Listen, we didn't want them feeling too chummy with us, Sam. Didn't want them to think they could …I don't know drop into the Bunker anytime they wanted to…unannounced," he pointedly told Sam.

It all sunk in with Sam then. Alec. Dean didn't want the Men of Letters thinking they could stop on over for tea when Alec was about to be their house guest. ' _So Dean set himself up to be the bad guy…and let me be the good guy…who could still work with them. Because he knew I still wanted to work with them. Damn it!'_ Sometimes his brother was too smart and too protective and too kindhearted for his own good. "Dean," and there was affection and heartbreak in his tone because didn't Dean get it that he didn't want to work with the Brits if it meant not working with him!

And by Dean's expression and gentle tone he did know that, sort of, maybe. "It's the best way, Sam. You can keep watch on them…and watch out for Mom. And I'll keep the home fires burning. Best of both worlds."

But Sam knew that wasn't true. Dean had just cut himself off from working with their mom, of getting to spend any time with her. And Sam was going to have the same trouble getting time with Dean. All in all, Sam thought the plan sucked as much as it was brilliant. "You suck."

Perceptively, Dean knew that was Sam speech for 'you rock'. "I know I do." Then he reached out, gave Sam's chest two pats and nodded toward the compound. "Better get back in there, Sam. Do damage control for yourself."

"Damage control, right," Sam grumbled. Knew Dean wouldn't be happy if he had any idea what kind of havoc he had just brought down on his head with his last conversation, not with Mick but their mother. Because for all the ways Dean cut himself off from their mother, his big brother was trying really hard to let Sam establish ties with her, to get a taste, even a tainted taste of what he had had for four years when Sam had only had six months as a baby. Of what having a mother felt like. Idiot still didn't get that Sam was learning that what he had had was better than what he hadn't had. That sometimes having an older brother trumped having a parent…a mom or a dad in Sam's case. Something Alec was sure to find out.

That thought spiked jealousy in Sam even as it shamed him the next second. Alec would be there with Dean when he wasn't, would get to be Dean's little brother, like Sam had had the honor of being all his life. Just when he was trying to find some way to tell Dean to not replace him, that he was not relinquishing his little brother position, ever, Dean somehow knew what he needed to hear.

"Check in everyday, give me a heads up if you're going on a hunt, and if anything seems hinky, bail, regardless of whatever Mom chooses to do, Sam." There Dean paused on his stern big brother lecture and smiled, "And don't worry, for every bad trait I teach Alec, I'll let you teach him a good one…like eat your veggies or….only use this type of mousse on your hair if it's windy.. but never if it's just overcast."

"Hey, my hair products are off limits!" Sam commanded but Dean was already rolling up the Impala window was mouthing the words "Can't hear you, Sammy" before he gave Sam a nod and drove off.

And crap but this wasn't how the day was supposed to end up. He had gone to Seattle to get his brother back with him…not for them to be pretending to be playing on separate teams and sleeping in the same state but hours apart. Yup, things were going the Winchester way alright.

SNDASNDASNDASNDASN

For a genetically engineered soldier, Alec was a messy sleeper like Dean was. Had the sheets twisted around his waist and one pillow on the floor and looked exactly sixteen years old. And Dean couldn't remember back that far any more, maybe didn't choose to, to his teenage years, to feeling alone…being alone, terrified he'd let something happen to Sammy while their dad was off hunting…or worse, that he wouldn't' be able to continue to convince their dad that Sam was still too young to join the hunt, wasn't like Dean was at that age, was …naïve and Dean had wanted Sam to keep that as long as he could.

But Alec wasn't any of that, hadn't been allowed naivety, or safety, or the belief that someone was out there ensuring that the bad things were taken out of play before they could ever harm you. No Alec had been taught that he _was_ the bad thing. And that just pissed Dean off.

Maybe it was that anger, that tinge in the air of malevolence that had Alec snapped upright in the bed, arm raised into a fist ready again to destroy anything in his personal space. Lazily, Dean watched him from his sprawl in the chair in the corner, drawled, "Nice form…but a few hours behind schedule."

"Dean?" Alec croaked, unnerved that Dean had made it into the room without his notice…or that fact that his 'I'll just close my eyes for a minute or two to stop my worry from taking over' had turned into a good night Charlie. Then he noted the dark coming in from the windows. "What time is it?"

"Bout four in the morning," Dean supplied, saw that register with Alec that seven hours had passed by.

"Did you just get back?!" Alec incredulously asked, searching in the dark with his night vision for signs that Dean had sustained any wounds from his 'debriefing' with the men of letters.

"Couple hours ago." Reading Alec's outrage, he tempered it with, "Left you sleep. You needed it."

"And you didn't?" A tinge of reprimand in his tone because Dean looked haggard and he knew how little sleep Dean must have gotten the night before not to mention the whole Taser incident.

"Got some," Dean replied but Alec didn't think he and Dean would agree on what "some" meant and what was a recommended dosage of sleep for a wounded human who was running on little to no sleep two days running.

Suddenly Alec realized someone was missing. "Sam?"

"With them," Dean said, dropping his eyes to his hands in his lap, didn't want Alec reading anything in his expression he didn't want him to.

But Alec read things just fine, light or no light, Dean's face averted or meeting him head on: like Dean's pang of pain but it wasn't of betrayal, Alec was sure of that. Sure of Sam, of his devotion to his brother, regardless of how he seemed impressed with the Men of Letters operation. "But not by his choice…was it."

Dean's head snapped up at Alec's perceptiveness. "You a human lie detector or what?"

"I like to think of myself as a truth seeker and a talented study of human nature," Alec drawled, saw by Dean's scowl that he wasn't in the mood for such light bantering deflections. "He wouldn't leave you, not willingly, not ever."

"Shows what you know…" Dean undertoned too low for normal humans to hear but Alec heard just fine. But before Alec could protest that statement Dean was speaking again, this time in a tone meant for his hearing. "Divide and conquer. He stays there, watches them so we know their moves and you and I head to the Bunker, do our thing."

"And our thing is?" Because honestly Alec wasn't sure how he fit into the family dynamics…or why Dean wanted him to…or if he even could, though he wanted to.

But Dean's wide smile made him believe that things were going to be alright. "Hunting things, Saving People. The Family business. We're working on getting t-shirts made up, maybe hot/cold mugs with the motto."

"Really?" Alec asked, half in belief and half in disbelief.

"No," Dean dejectedly admitted before his face brightened, "But we did have our own tv show in an alternate universe."

"Ah…tell me again just how many concussions have you had in your lifetime…" Alec taunted, ducked when Dean sent a decorative pillow arching for his head.

SNDASNDASNDA

When morning came, Alec and Dean headed north for the Bunker, Dean a little more rested and Alec, thanks to his enhanced recuperative genes and some nice hours of sleep, was feeling almost 100% again. They passed the hours in small talk and Dean telling him about his favorite foods across the United States while Alec brought Dean up to date on the latest happening on Dr Sexy, a tv show the whole TC was hooked on.

Then they were at their destination and Alec didn't get the 'bat cave' reference Dean made but understood 'cave' description well enough when Dean pulled the Impala into a tunnel hued from a rock face and parked in a large room besides a few other antique cars and some motorcycles that had Alec drooling. Then it was taking a staircase down to the main area of the Bunker.

Honestly, the Bunker wasn't anything like Alec expected, wasn't a Manticore lookalike of sterile barracks just wholly underground. To copy something Joshua's art expert friend would have said: the Bunker had character. From its war table of a map a few decades out of date to its mahogany tables with banker's lamps, to the shelves full of books with titles like "Werewolves in South America" and "Exorcises from the 14th Century" and then there were the historical articles likes swords, knifes, ram's horn that were on display, all in all, it was like no place Alec had ever been.

Nervously watching Alec take in his surroundings, Dean thought he had probably oversold the appeal of the bunker to Alec. Not everyone took all this weirdness in and could call it "home sweet home" like he instantly had. Heck, Sam hadn't put in any personal items in his room for a good few years, was just starting to now. And regardless of what Sam had said about it being the only place he called home, Dean still felt his brother hadn't fully settled in, maybe never would. ' _And now he's setting up a room in the Men of Letters compound, probably already has pictures on the wall,_ ' he bitterly thought before shame settled in. Sam didn't deserve that censure from him, it wasn't Sam's idea to be there, not here with him. He had set that in motion, not Sam.

No, Sam was loyal to him. He _knew_ that. Heck, Sam hadn't left him no matter how pissed Sam had been over the whole Gadreel thing or how scared Sam should have been of him after his demon escapade or just fed up after the million and one bad decisions that he had made. Through it all, Sam had found a way to forgive him…and not just that, but save him, regardless of the consequences, global or not. If that wasn't unshakeable loyalty, he didn't know what was.

Aloud, Dean apologized to Alec for the accommodations. "Not very homey, I know, but Sam won't let me put up a Def Leopard poster on the war room wall."

"No it's…" Alec stammered, had never had this sense of….belonging before, of _wanting_ to belong. Before he could find the words to describe what he was feeling, Dean was continuing his role as tour guide.

"This is the kitchen," and Alec peeped into the room, found it the most sterile of the rooms he saw so far with silver appliances and hanging pans. Course there were also El Sol beer cans gracing the countertop that shot the Manticore comparisons out of the water. Then Dean was leading him down a hallway. Pointing to a door on the left, he said, "My room," then the next one on the right, "Sam's room". Pointing to the one down from Sam's he seemed about to christen with a name but then he just walked by it like it didn't exist. But not before Alec noted a woman's sweater on the back of the single chair in the room.

' _The mother's room. But she's not here any longer, defected to the men of letters team, instead of her sons'. But Dean's still keeping a room for her…hoping she'll return.'_ But by the closed off expression on Dean's face, that hope was waning, was solidifying into yet more hurt and disappointment. Alec silently cursed the woman he had never met, didn't give a crap if he could link his DNA to hers, one removed. Anyone that hurt Dean, that hurt Sam, especially as deeply as she apparently had, was permanently on Alec's crap list. And he took his crap lists very seriously.

Dean was about to point out another room down the hallway when a metal knock resounded through the bunker. "Now what?!" Dean grumbled, before he silently used military hand gestures to tell Alec to go down the hallway and head to the right and stay hidden. Whoever their visitor was, Dean didn't want them knowing Alec was there until he determined if they were friend or foe, which some days switched up hour by hour.

Waiting until Alec was out of sight, Dean then headed for the main rooms, took the stairs up to the door, pulled the gun from the back of his waist and then opened the door. Out of all the potential guests to sign into the Bunker's guest log book, Arthur Ketch wasn't one Dean every expected, well not without him wearing a Ninja Mask and trying to behead him with a Samurai Sword. But maybe that was his overactive imagination. After all, his current black turtleneck and leather coat looked like a good assassination outfit for Ketch's British sensibilities.

Dean dropped his right hand to his side, openly showing his gun to his visitor. "I gave at the office. For the last time." Then he started to shut the bunker door, but Ketch put his foot in the opening to stop it's motion.

"Yes, about that. While I understand you're not feeling warmly disposed to me or my organization at the moment, I wonder what's your disposition to this incredibility rare, unspeakably expensive bottle of barrel scotch?" Ketch drawled and Dean didn't detect malice in his tone, then again, he thought Ketch probably drank tea with his right hand, with his pinky out, of course, while he hacked a vampire's head clean off with his left hand. Never spilling a drop of tea the whole time.

Everything was telling Dean to kick Brit's fancy shoe outside the door frame and slam the door in Ketch's face. But defying Mick, playing the hurt ego card with the bureaucrat wasn't the same as doing the same with Ketch. Ketch was lethal in a way Mick didn't dream of being and Dean knew to not take him or his presence there lightly. Didn't suspect he knew Alec was there or about Alec but he'd never know why Ketch was there if he didn't let him in. And a drink, he could use one.

So he opened the door, let the devil in. And boy hadn't he played this game of fire enough to know he always got burned? Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but sooner or later, you paid the piper. But Dean had learned also that you couldn't look at the long game, the sure consequences, had to play for the win now. And right now, learning why Ketch was there, if he knew about the transgenics, about Alec specifically, that was Dean's goal. Was all that mattered, well that and making sure Ketch and Alec didn't cross on the way to using the bathroom.

SNDASNDASNDASNDA

Alec's hearing, as stated before, was exceptional, which meant he didn't have to be dangerously close to over hear the conversation taking place in the main room. And yes, he was fast, but that didn't mean he wanted to chance being too far away, not fast enough if Dean needed him, if the man bearing alcohol turned out to be more friend than foe. Wait, scratch that, more foe _foe_ than foe because, whatever Dean and this man were, it wasn't friends, Alec would bet every last dollar he scammed at Manticore on that.

So he stayed in the hallway just around the corner from the kitchen, well within protective distance to Dean and far enough for his presence to not be detected by either man. Because he also knew Dean would be pissed if he knew how close he was, would consider it a risk he shouldn't take. ' _Well we'll have to agree to disagree on this one_ ,' Alec thought, listening as the verbal quiet in the other room told of a glasses being set on the table along with a liquor bottle, Scotch the other man had said. Then there was liquid splashing into said glasses. Chairs being pulled out, weight shifting in the room and then he imaged a silent stare down was underway.

Dean didn't break the silence, the other man did after a long few minutes dragged on. "Nice place. Quant. Cozy." To this Dean said nada and Alec smirked, he liked Dean's style, a lot. Unencouraged the visitor continued in his British accent, "Not much for small talk are we."

"Nope," this from Dean. Not giving an inch to the other man.

"Surely you have some questions. Why I'm here for instance?" Ketch pressed, a little peeved that he had to do all the work on this one, that Dean was sitting there like he was drinking his very expensive drink all alone instead of entertaining an important guest.

And Dean had already figured that out, knew when Ketch's eyes didn't unobtrusively search the bunker rooms for signs of anyone else there but them, that he had no clue a transgenic clone of Dean lurched in the bowels of the Bunker, right under his nose. "You're here to make nice. Smooth my ruffled feathers so I agree to keep playing on your team, like Sam is, like my mom dutifully has from the start."

With frankness, Ketch declared, "I don't but the old lads have taken quite a shine to you."

"Mmm…then they shouldn't have put someone like Mick in charge," Dean said, felt a tad guilty for speaking bad of Mick when the guy hadn't really don't them wrong, yet. His issue was with their whole philosophy not just their leader here in the states. But he didn't think Ketch was the guy you debated the moral pros and cons of taking non-human lives just because they were…you know, non-humans.

"Ah, yes, Mick. No one listened to me when I said he didn't have the mental fortitude for this position," Ketch said with a sigh.

Letting that pass without comment, Dean simply drank his Scotch.

Seeing that the discussion of Mick was over, Ketch returned to his point. "Dean, I don't give a toss if you resign. Honestly I don't care if you live or die."

Alec felt his heart skip a beat at that cold hearted statement and he felt his muscle gear up for action, would react if the man showed any more animosity to Dean in word or deed.

Meanwhile, Dean was thinking, _'Wow this guy's a jerk and he doesn't care if everyone knows it. Bet he didn't win prom king at his high school.'_

Then the jerk was continuing. "But since we're such jolly good pals now…"

"Jolly good, huh?" Dean interjected, taking another savory swallow of the liquor, determined enduring the conversation was worth it just for the liquor's sake.

"Let me just say that the Men of Letters in an excellent fit for someone with our _inclinations,_ " Ketch clearly alluded to something darker than his spoken words.

Though he didn't even know the man, Alec didn't like that the man was comparing himself to Dean.

Apparently neither did Dean because he challenged with distaste a moment later, "Our? As in you and me?"

With cold practicality Ketch imparted his insight into the other hunter. "You're a killer, Dean Winchester. And so am I. And if we go too long without something to track or trap or punch or gut, things get a bit ugly, don't they?"

A chill coursed through Alec at the man's description of Dean. Not one of fear of Dean, but for Dean. Alec had some of those 'inclinations' bouncing around in him, knew how hard it was to keep it locked down, understood, though he had never told a soul, how his other clones had let that lid off and hadn't been able to contain it again. And to have this man see the same in Dean…for Dean to not dispute it, it unnerved him. He had hoped he had gotten that of his own accord, that his DNA donor, that _Dean_ hadn't had to contend with that bloodthirsty nature. But apparently that wish went unheard. Dean fought the same devil he did and Alec knew it was an ongoing battle, one you had to lose to once in a while to survive and every time you let it loose, it was harder and harder to chain up again. He worried one day he wouldn't be able to chain it up at all. Hoped things never felt that desperate for Dean.

And now here this bastard was, daring Dean to let that devil loose? Baiting him to show his grit matched the British man's. That their darkness was better off unleashed.

"The Men of Letters keep me busy. They point me in a direction and bang, off I go. It's not a bad life. Speaking of…"

Alec felt relief when he heard the scrap of a chair being pushed back, knew the Brit was on his way out, without Dean.

"Now that you've heard what I have to say, I have places to be…vampires to behead," Ketch purposefully chose 'beheaded', liked the visceral description instead of saying he would be using the pathetically boring AVD to gas the vampires into extinction. Yawn.

"You have a line on vamps?"

And Alec hated the eagerness that he heard in Dean's voice. ' _No no no_!' He could almost hear the smug smile in the Brit's comeback.

"I do. Interested?"

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When Dean rounded the corner in the Bunker, he didn't expect to find lurking Alec there. Grabbing the younger man's arm he began to manhandle him back down the hallway, away from the Men of Letters promo killer of things not human, _like clones_. Shoving Alec into the nearest room, namely Sam's, he shut the door but still lowly hissed, "What are you doing! I told you to am scram, be as far away from whoever was coming through that door!"

But Alec wasn't backing down at the reprimand. His tone pitched as low as Dean's, he railed back, "What are _you_ doing?!" He pointed in the direction Ketch still was in the bunker. "That man just said he didn't care if you _died,_ and I believe he really, really meant it _,_ and now you're going on a hunt with him, trusting him to have your back?! I was kidding about your concussion count screwing with your brain functions but maybe I shouldn't be."

Dean didn't even take the time to be pissed at Alec's sleight to his ego. "Ketch might have made this all sound like a friendly come-back-to-Jesus speech but if I don't go with him, it he tells "the old lads" I'm truly out, I think things will get very bad, very quickly," Dean grimly explained, couldn't express what his gut instincts were screaming any better than that.

Alec was trying to make sense of all these Men of Letters undertones, was starting to think the group did know all about Manticore, were certainly taking a page out of their book on hidden agendas, in name only leaders and tests to prove your loyalty that you did not want to fail…or even get a B- in. "Ok so Mick, the leader, let you walk away, didn't even try to convince you to stay. But what, you think this Ketch guy is actually the one who has the power to drop the ax on you?"

" ' _Drop the ax'_ …nice imagery …that I really didn't need when I'm about to hunt vamps with machetes and….like axes, with Ketch," Dean grumbled, was so going to protest if Ketch chose an axe as his weapon of choice on their little play time excursion.

"So don't go with him," Alec insisted, reaching out and latching onto Dean's arms, his grip nearly bruising with his desire for Dean to not go.

"I don't and things get a lot worse than me dodging an axe, worse for you, for Sam, for your transgenic friends. So I'll go, Ketch and I'll bond, he won't put a hit out on us, start to question my 'White ran off with all the Terminal City citizens' tale, it'll be fine." Then Dean was trying to pry Alec's hands from his arms but he wasn't having much luck against Alec's strength. So he gave up, met Alec's apprehensive gaze and used his words. "This is the life we live, Sam and me. We don't have the luxury of playing it safe. You want to be part of this, of our lives….then you have to let me go, Alec. Now."

Hissing out a heartfelt curse, Alec released his desperate grip on Dean, nervously rubbed his forehead. Watched as Dean turned for the door but then he reached out again, this time only delivered a tap on Dean's arm to recapture the older man's attention. And Dean patiently gave it to him. Vulnerably Alec repeated aloud what was running around in his head, "Look I just found you, found Sam and, against my better judgment, I've gotten kinda attached so don't…" but he couldn't get the word "die" out there so he went with snark, "you know, overdo the hero thing. Because, the whole corpse pasty look, it's really unbecoming to our hair coloring."

To this Dean gave a cocky smile. "But you're forgetting…heroes get the hot girls." Then he was out the door, joining Ketch in the other room and leaving the bunker and a not comforted clone of himself behind.

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When Sam's phone trilled, Sam's heart jumped and he was certain it was Dean but the number that came up…it was Alec's newly christened burner phone. Going into a spare room in the compound, Sam lowly answered the phone with a "yeah?" because he had no plans whatsoever to ever say Alec's name anywhere near the Men of Letters bunker, personnel, heck, even any of their weapons in case they had bugs installed. Trust wasn't coming when there was so much to risk, not only Alec but Dean too if the truth came out.

Then Alec's voice came through the speakers and Sam was still trying to come to grips at the difference Dean's voice had undergone in the intervening years between Dean's age now and the twenty something Alec was. Then Alec's words were stealing away his attention and his breath.

"Do you _trust_ a British guy named Ketch with Dean's life?"

"What?! Why are you asking me that?!" Sam quietly but urgently reacted to Alec's alarming question because the combo of Dean and Ketch gave him chills, like few things could. He didn't give a rat's butt if his mother chose to trust the psycho, after all, she made it clear that she made her own decisions and to heck with what he or Dean thought. But his brother…he honestly didn't want Dean anywhere near the Men of Letters number one ax man.

"Because Dean just left with him to hunt down vampires," Alec said the words Sam so didn't want to hear.

"If Ketch and the vampires don't beat me to it, I'm going to kill him," Sam fumed, already stalking out of the room and heading for the door, would liberate one of the vehicles on the compound, say sorry to its owner for the theft later. "You know where they are headed?"

"Currently, south."

A little surprised by the directional information Alec provided, Sam hazarded, "You tracking Dean's phone?"

"No, him. Hope you don't mind, I liberated one of your bikes from your garage." It was kind of a trick, driving the bike one handed while holding the cell phone up to his helmet, which, by the way, didn't have Bluetooth technology. But considering the helmet, like the bike, was from the early nineteen fifties, he thought he'd be lucky if the helmet was more than a fashion statement. Course he did have a hard head and was an exceptional driver with lightning fast reflexes so a traffic mishap wasn't likely. Strange that he then worriedly hoped Sam and Dean didn't rely on the helmet…put a mental note to invest in a top of the line helmet for them. _'Yeah because the most dangerous thing they'd ever do is ride motorcycle with an outdated helmet. Gosh, when did you become such a worry wart.'_ But the answer was obvious: 'S _ince I met the Winchesters_.'

Knowing Alec was following Dean, wasn't letting Dean go off on his own with Ketch, it gave Sam a measure of relief. "Alright, I'm heading out the door now. I think they're heading to Wichita, Kansas to a defunct Morest Motel."

"That's pretty specific? What? Did you overhear Ketch making a reservation there?" Alec caustically shot back, following the Impala from a few miles distance.

"No. That's where a nest of vampires are located. Mick was planning on sending a team to take them out tomorrow."

"But this Ketch guy saw it as a way to test Dean's true loyalty to them," anger ringing in Alec's words.

"Wait? What? Loyalty test? Is that what you think this is?" Sam demanded, felt cold settle in his gut at the thought that Ketch, not Mick was tasked with deciding Dean's fate with the Men of Letters and maybe Dean's fate in a more general, menacing way.

"It's what Dean thought. I tried to stop him but ….he said…" But now Alec felt stupid. He was a genetically enhanced soldier, he could have stopped Dean, heck, could have knocked him out and taken out Ketch before either men knew what had happened. But he hadn't….because Dean did that thing, that 'you have to trust me' 'if you want to be a part of this life, to be with Sam and I, you have to let me do this' jedi mind trick and he had…crumbled like a freaking cookie. And now he had no excuse to give Sam on why he had let Dean leave the bunker, go into this danger, when he could have…should have stopped it.

Sam sighed and ran a hand over his mouth. "Yeah, I know….Dean told you he had to do it, that you had to let him do it. That a little vampire hunt with Ketch was a small price to pay to regain the Men of Letters' trust."

"Yeah, basically. You have a bug in the Bunker or do you just know Dean that well?" Though Alec already knew the answer.

"I know my brother," Sam confirmed but it didn't sound like he was giving Dean a compliment with his knowledge. "I also know our luck sometimes so let's get to Wichita and back up the jerk before Ketch sits back and watches Dean become a vampire nest's favorite dessert."

"So didn't need those visuals. Call you when I'm there," then Alec disconnected the call, put the phone in his pocket and used his superior sight to track the Impala and Ketch's motorcycle a few miles ahead on the highway. And yes, it rankled him a bit that Ketch drove a motorcycle. He, Alec, was supposed to the cool one in this group, not some stuffed Brit that used phrases like "jolly good pals". He made a note to sabotage Ketch's bike…right after he made sure the psycho didn't let a hair on Dean's head even get mussed up.

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There were times the Brits kept him and Sam in the dark, Dean knew that. Then there were times the cocky Men of Letter researchers overestimated their knowledge of monsters. And Dean's all-time favorite was when they just got it wrong: like the "shifters" in Terminal City, like the supposed "10 or so" vampires in the Morest Motel.

Sure, Dean didn't have time to count the vampires surrounding him in the Motel's once grand main ballroom but it surely was more than ten and that didn't take into account the ones that had gone after Ketch when the hunter duo split up at the second floor. It was only a marginally happy thought to know Ketch was also getting screwed by the Men of Letter's researchers piss poor intel. Course if Ketch made it out and he didn't…that would suck, royally.

Not to mention Sam would be pissed, I mean really _really_ pissed if he went out like this, with Ketch his only backup. And, oh yeah, Alec would be crowing 'told you so' over his funeral pyre, would have rights to brag to the other transgenics just how much smarter he was than his DNA donor.

Suddenly three vampires were baring their fangs and charging for him and Dean didn't have time to be pissed at himself for being just what Ketch said he was: a killer jonsing for some bloodletting.

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TBC

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Thanks for your wonderful encouraging reviews. Sorry I haven't kept up with making replies but please know I really love hearing from you all! Also shouts out of appreciation to everyone out there reading this story silently to themselves!

Have a great day!

Cheryl


	7. Blood Sport

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's note: Violence ahead. If you're a vampire lover, you best look away.

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Chapter 7: Blood Sport

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Left hand joining his right on the machete handle, Dean forced himself to wait…wait, then the first male vamp was in his kill zone and he swung the machete, the blade surgically slicing through the vampire's neck, leaving a thin line of blood and a surprised look on the hippie looking vamp's face. Dean didn't wait to see the vamp's head roll to the floor before he had to deal with the second male vamp sporting a bodybuilder frame. A bit out of position to wield the machete, Dean instead delivered a kick to the vamp's stomach. Then, drawing the machete over his head, Dean brought it down with a strong two handed grip on the third vamp that had once been a knockout blonde before she changed up her diet to all red meat.

Two vamps down nine to go. Dean had had worse odds. Course last time he had either the Mark of Cain strength, not to mention an immortality safeguard, or was hyped up on his conversion to vampirism. This time he was just plain old, though still awesome, Dean, hunter extraordinaire. And he was solo because Ketch, he was most likely still somewhere else in the defunct motel fighting for his own life. Course it was questionable if Ketch was even right there in the room that he wouldn't choose to sit over at one of the dusty tables, taking tea time while watching the amusing spectacle of a Winchester getting himself murdered. ' _Again why Sam would be pissed you decided to hunt_ _alone_ _with Ketch.'_

His thoughts on his brother were interrupted by the so not encouraging sight of nine, yup _nine_ , vamps forming a line across the room and heading his way. And that presented another wrinkle. The last two aforementioned times he had faced these odds he had also either surprise on his side or narrow workspace, like stairways and halls, that corralled his prey into a nice line that meant they could only come at him one or two at a time at the most. Here, now, they had free range, could flank him…and circle around him and come at him from all sides.

Definitely not liking the 'them circling him' scenario, Dean stepped backwards as the vamps approached him like a twisted version of West Side story…not like Dean had ever seen that musical. I mean come on, a musical, him watching a musical?! But seriously, if the vamps started snapping their fingers, he was so out of there. Then as if they had read his mind, the vamps didn't snap their fingers but started to try and flank him and that was the moment Dean knew he had to change tactics.

Sometimes the best offensive was….to run away like nine vamps were after you.

Turning his back on the West Side Story vamp lineup, Dean ran full out across the once decadent ballroom, was aiming for the far right swinging door that probably had once been used by suited up waiters to bring trays of food to the upper crust masses in the ballroom. But when he was fifty yards away, the door swung open and in strolled three more vampires, fangs already set to dinner time mode.

That escape cut off, Dean swung around, beheaded the twenty something good looking boy band vamp that had been hot on his heels. Grabbing the next vamp to reach him, he used a good grip on her long black hair to toss her across the floor. Was bringing his machete up to slice and dice the third but one of the newly arrived vamps grabbed him from behind and jerked him around to face him. Using the momentum, Dean sank the machete in the new comer's gut, ripped the blade free even as he elbowed the vamp in the face trying to gain an advantage by his distraction by attacking from behind.

He had gained himself some room, the vamps, having decided he might be just a human but he was a threat, were holding back, but now they had formed a friggin' circle around him. Their count was eight, his was sadly still one. The first emboldened vamp was a guy who looked like a history professor just kicking back until he got tenure. Dean carved a bloody slash across his chest and through his carotid artery. Then two vamps were coming at him, one the bodybuilder he had kicked earlier and a new one that was smiling showing bad teeth to match his mullet hair persona of redneck perfection. Not liking the one's muscles and the others sick enthusiasm to taste him, Dean didn't underestimate their combined threat.

Which was why he charged them, tackled them low, sending both crashing to the ground, him on top of the bodybuilder. Then knowing the other vamps were closing in ranks on him, Dean was pushing off the bodybuilder, gaining his feet, intending to do some running but he wasn't fast enough. Felt someone seize the back of his jacket and then he was airborne, going backwards high and then he was arching down to earth, landed, hard, onto a long unused table. Cracking the table legs with his momentum, Dean slid to the floor as the table's left side slammed into the floor. His back in agony and his head ringing, having hit both on his impact with the table, Dean got his hands under him, pushed himself off the ground onto all fours but before he made the move to standing, he had unwelcome company.

The long black haired women vamp that he had abused earlier was back with vengeance on her mind. Her backhand slap sent him rolling across the floor, his lip bleeding and his teeth stinging like the hygienist from hell was working on him. It was his bad luck that his roll was stopped by him coming up against a barrier, namely the legs of one of the vamps that had cut off his earlier escape route. That black vamp took the opportunity to kick at the human trash at his feet.

Dean couldn't hold back his cry at the swift wave of pain, thought he could hear his rib break. But proving he could give better than he got, he used his machete that he had miraculously not lost on the kicker vamp. Swiping the machete one handed from left to right, he cut the black vamps legs at the ankle. Enjoying the vamps scream of agony even as he pushed himself to his feet in one go, feeling lucky the vamp didn't topple on him but went backwards to the ground, footless.

Back on his feet, Dean reassessed his odds. And they were more crappy and that was putting it nicely. Because while he was down on the ground playing footsy, five more vamps had come to the party, taking their number up again, now to eleven. Worse than he had started with.

Backing up as they advanced, Dean went for his favorite backup plan when things went fubar: using his words. Oh not to make things better but to ensure he didn't go out whimpering but snarking and biting, like a Winchester should. "Hey, can we talk about this? How about I come back when you're feeling more like having guests." Seeing they weren't into talking, Dean switched his hold on his machete dripping with vamp blood, turned it blade side up and to the right, better to handle when only a one handed grip was possible in a close quarters battle.

The gathered vamps, some bloody most sporting some kind of wounds from Dean, parted as another vamp made his way to the front of their pack. This male vamp had a flair for wardrobe, looked like he had been born in the Victorian age, taken a great nap in the intervening years and woke up still thinking big sleeve flowy shirts with string ties at the chest were still all the rage. Dean hated that the vamp actually pulled off the outfit, hated more that his smile was amused, like he was enjoying the entertainment Dean had brought to his stiflingly boring life.

The renaissance vamp's smile widened and he clamped his hands three times, like he was at a high class play put on simply for his attendance. "Very good. I've not seen fighting skill of your superiority since my human days. Course then blades were all the weapons mankind had at their disposal."

Dean put on his wolf smile. "Sometimes the old ways are still the best ways," hand tightening on the machete, ready for the prissy vamp to make his move.

The renaissance vamp nodded his head like he understood. "That's why you didn't try and use the Men of Letters AVP, is it? You like the feel of blood on your hands," and he gave a subtle nod to Dean's blood covered hands.

Not liking that the vamp was the _second_ person that day implying he was a bloodthirsty murderer, Dean snarked back, "Yeah but I just have to remember to not lick my fingers."

The vamp gave an amused chuckle at Dean's humor. "You might be surprised how much you'd like being one of us, killing without feeling remorse, tasting power, living forever."

Dean gave a ballsy smirk. "Been there, done that. Passed on the blood buffet lifestyle."

At that declaration, true surprise shone on the vamp's features before his brows knitted in dark resolve. "Ah…so you're him. Father spoke of you a few times."

"Yeah, right, you don't know me and you haven't seen me in this bar before," Dean shot back, thinking the vamp was using a twisted vampire pickup line.

But the vampire seemed in earnest. "No, I do know of you. Dean Winchester."

Dean winced as the vamp proved he wasn't lying. Crap but sometimes getting around and having a reputation really put a cramp in a guy's style for menacing. "Ok, fine. I'm the real Dean Winchester. You want an autograph or should we get back to the business at hand?"

"Father will be a little put out that I ended you. I think that was an honor he wanted for himself," the vamp revealed, something lurking in his eyes that Dean couldn't put his finger on.

"Well, hey, I'm in no hurry. If you want to wait for him….."

Before Dean even suspected the renaissance vampire would move, he had, was suddenly behind him, arm coiled around his throat, hand clamped around his wrist, his hot breath on his neck, namely over his carotid artery. "Fathers shouldn't be able to take everything away from their sons, don't you agree, Dean? We should be able to get what we want, what we deserve once in a while."

Pinned against the vampire's chest, trapped within his too strong grasp, Dean tried to keep ahold of the machete but the fingers around his wrist tightened and his hand spasmed open, sending the machete dropping to the floor, hopelessly out of his reach. The vampire spoke lowly, his breath flowing against Dean's ear. "Overbearing Fathers they think sons are only to do their bidding. In my lifetime I've had two such Fathers." He jerked his chin to the gathered vamps. "We all do his bidding but our time will come. And we will have your little group to thank."

Dean was trying to make sense of that out of the blue statement when the vamp twisted his wrist, almost snapped it when he was turning it back further than it was ever meant to go. "I'll remember to say thank you to your memory when our liberation comes."

"Ah, that's nice and all…or I could stick around and when that day comes, you can send me a card. I like cards with sound, musical if you can find the right tune." Dean knew he was trying to stall for time, the vamp knew he was stalling for time. But the sad thing was, time for what?! For Ketch to show up? He didn't hold a lot of faith in that happening. And Sam….heck, his brother didn't even know he'd gone on this doomed hunt. As for Alec, he had ordered him to stay put at the Bunker. So really, his borrowed time was only good for wondering what was in the void he was about to be thrown into upon his death.

"Sorry, both my Fathers taught me to never let an enemy stand," the renaissance vampire tried to sound apologetic but he wasn't pulling it off, at all. He switched to his sultry voice again, the one that gave Dean the creeps. "Now some say the jugular is the sweetest flow but me…I like to savor my meal." Then, using his pointed claws he extended at will, he made one precision swipe at Dean's jacket sleeve, sliced the fabric clean through until it dangled against Dean's side, leaving the flimsy protection of a flannel shirt covering the flesh of Dean's arm. "If I start here," and the vamp's claws dug into Dean's wrist bringing blood welling to the surface, "then I can travel up the brachial artery." And to demonstrate he used his other hand's pointer finger claw to trail a bloody line up the inside of Dean's arm, never losing his arm's near choking pressure on Dean's throat.

"Me, I'm more of a shove it down and go for seconds, guy," Dean shot back, hated that even now he was feeling the effects of the blood loss, remembered the hunt going after Benny's stalker, that one swift scratch to his neck and he had almost passed out before Benny saved his bacon.

This vampire might talk about savoring every drop of his blood but he was very hands on. "Sorry to say, once we get here," and he tapped his claw to the inside of Dean's forearm, "it's pretty much a done deal. Besides, I don't like to let my food get cold."

"Yeah, being a lush and ending up drinking dead man's blood would be a killjoy for you," Dean said like he sympathized with the vamp's eating constraints. Instead he hoped he did croak before the vamp got his fill, left a bad taste in the prissy vamp's mouth of dead man's blood. It was petty but it was all Dean had left.

The vamp gave him another impressed smile at Dean's understanding of vampire weaknesses. "Smart little boy. Now, remember, no one likes to go out a coward," then, before Dean had a comeback, the vamp changed his grip on Dean so he could sink his teeth into Dean's bleeding right wrist.

Dean growled between his teeth at the surge of agony, tried to buck loose but the vamp's grip, now around his waist, was too strong and Dean was too weak, especially in light of the present blood depletion Dean was experiencing. Then, without warning and seemingly without cause, three of the vamps in the back of the gathered crowd had their heads separate from their shoulders and topple to the floor, their bodies joining them a few seconds later.

Dean thought it was probably vanity to the ninth degree, but he was ssssooo glad to hear his own voice coming from behind the vampires. "Excuse me, is this by invitation only or can any hunter jump right in?" Alec posed, bloody machete blade lazily resting on his shoulder and cocky smirk in place. But his eyes darkened into that 'come hither and I'll show you hell' glaze like Dean's could as Alec saw Dean held by the renaissance vampire, Dean's blood dripping from said vampire's fangs as he took a break from his meal.

"I'll vouch for you," Dean managed to sound almost like his normal brazen self, his eyes meeting Alec's, hoped the kid knew how glad he was there. And yup, kinda pissed too because Alec didn't know vampire hunting from….well, he just didn't know vampire hunting, how dangerous it was, the risks of being turned, what killed a vamp…wait, scratch that. Alec had that done pat. Dean just had to hope whatever tutorial Alec had taken about vampire hunting had been inclusive on the, don't talk while beheading because you so didn't want to get blood splatter in your mouth.

Dean thought his captive would offer up a witty remark to Alec but Alec didn't stop to find out, was swinging his machete and moving almost as fast as the renaissance vamp had. Though the vamps turned enforce against Alec, Alec was making short work of them. It put Dean to shame and he started to wonder if Alec would share some of his revved up DNA with him.

With a one handed grip on the machete, Alec strode toward the rushing horde, beheaded two right off the bat like a buy one get one free deal, kicked a third in the head, and punched a fourth in the face. The remaining six vampires backed up as Alec came toward them, loyally maneuvered in his path to his target: Dean and the vamp that had dared to hurt Dean.

And that vamp suddenly clamped his hand around Dean's neck, lifted Dean off the ground. "I'll snap his neck and then we'll both not be happy," he threatened in that taunting lilt to his new adversary as Dean choked, futilely tried to dislodge the vamp's hands.

Alec stopped his advance but he practically vibrated with pent up energy. "You kill him and none of you will get out of here, that I promise you," Alec hissed, hadn't felt this rage since…heck, had never felt this magnitude of rage before. He finally had someone who knew him and accepted him, didn't hate what he was, what he had done and now this vampire was threatening to take that away from him, take Dean away from him.

"So…standoff is it?" the renaissance vamp categorized not intimidated but amused by Alec's very viable threat. And that amusement had him putting Dean back on the ground and loosening marginally on his strangling grip. Looking to Dean's profile and then back to Alec, he remarked, "I have to say I'm intrigued. I'd say you were this one's brother but…." He tilted his head in contemplation, "There's something…."

Suddenly Dean remembered the Alpha vampire, how he had called soulless Sam "cold" and he prayed to Chuck that those same words didn't come from this vamp's mouth to describe Alec. Because he didn't want that to be true, didn't think it could be true. Alec was….Alec had….Alec just cared…where soulless Sam hadn't. But Alec wasn't ….all human, was manufactured like ….fake crab legs. Oh, he so wished he hadn't made that comparison.

"…different about you," renaissance vamp concluded. Then he pointed to Alec like he had a eureka moment. "Animal, it's what I smell on you." Then the vamp took a sniff in the air and Dean cringed away in disgust. "Cat…a tinge of dog and maybe…."

But it was a voice behind Dean that provided the missing ingredient to Alec's cocktail of DNA. "Lizard."

Alec watched Dean stiffen at the man's voice, like it was a voice he knew and wasn't at all happy to hear again. Honestly, Alec wasn't all too keen about the man's appearance either especially since he had suddenly just been there behind Dean and his captor, a black bald man dressed in a three piece suit and smiling that badass predatory smile Alec hated. Maybe because White had sported that one and beat him at his own game.

And once again it wasn't just his life in the balance, this time Alec knew that from the jump. Playing against this predator and losing wasn't an option, not unless he wasn't all that attached to Dean's life or his own.

' _Just when I think things are craptastic enough_ …' Dean thought, didn't need to turn his head to know the Alpha Vamp had come to join his children, and it wasn't to reprimand them for playing with their food. His eyes met Alec's and he gave a silent order that he had no hope that Alec would listen to: Run!

Instead of adhering to Dean's clear command, Alec loosened his stance and met the Alpha's inspection of him with a full-of-himself smile. "To be more specific, it's the green anole lizard. So we can regenerate cells. I mean, when you have something this beautiful," he waved at his own face, "you gotta pay the insurance premiums to cover it, am I right?"

Kind of liking this knock off version of Dean Winchester, the Alpha smiled his toothy smile. "Yes, most understandable. I once thought Dean's brother, Sam, well the Sam devoid of his soul, would be the perfect animal at my disposal but clearly you fit the bill much better."

Dean's blood ran cold at the Alpha's words, knew once again that there were worse threats than killing someone he loved. And what kind of sick world did he live in that death threats were actually a relief?! ' _A world I dragged Alec into_.' And Dean silently let loose a string of blue curse words and tried to fight free of the renaissance vamp that held him, wanted to do anything he could, had to do to make sure the Alpha didn't get his claws on Alec.

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The person Sam hoped to rescue was so not Arthur Ketch but, as was his luck, Sam stumbled onto the man fending off eight vampires on the first floor of the motel. And darn his conscience that he couldn't leave the Brit to take on the vamps and go in search of Dean instead. So with begrudging duty, hoping his delay in finding Dean wouldn't cost him more than he could bear, Sam engaged Ketch's fan group.

Of course the vamps sensed his approach and two veered off from their attention to Ketch to snarl at him. Dodging the first vamp's lunge for him, Sam swung one handed with his machete, taking the vamp's head with the professionalism that garnered a raised eyebrow look of respect from Ketch even as the Brit was battling two vamps. Sam resented the praise, had wanted his Dad to appreciate his skill, counted on Dean to trust his skill, had yearned for his mother to smile that 'That's my son' proud look but Ketch's 'good job' expression made him sick.

Jaw clenched, he dispatched the other vampire he had dodged with prejudice by stabbing him in the gut, shoving him to the ground and using a two handed chopping swing to take his head clear off. Then machete dripping, he waded into Ketch's leftovers. Found he overestimated himself when a vamp ducked his swing and tackled him. On the ground, his machete pinned between him and the vampire on top of him, Sam grabbed the vamp by the neck, holding back the fangs intent on sinking into his throat. Fought to turn the machete blade side up but the vampire guessed his intentions and grabbed the machete by the blade and held it immobile even as blood soaked between them as the flesh of the vamp's hand was chewed up by the machete's sharp teeth.

Giving up the fight for the machete, Sam dug into his jacket, pulled out a syringe and sank it into the vamp's neck. Almost instantly the vamp collapsed unconscious onto him, the dead man's blood acting fast. Shoving the vamp off him, Sam pulled the machete from the vamp's still clamped hand and put the vamp down for good. Then standing, he saw Ketch draw his machete against one vamp's gut, shove it into another's eye before pulling it free. Then with something too close to cheerfulness, Ketch took both wounded vamp's heads.

Ketch smiled, unmindful or not caring that blood was splattered across his face, even in his coiffed hair, "Don't know that I needed your help but it was appreciated all the same."

Sam didn't bother pointing out that the Brit hunter was up against eight to one odds and was getting his butt kicked, evidenced by the claw marks on his torso through his shirt, the bleeding gash on his forehead and the exhaustion wearing him down, making his defensive moves slow when Sam came on the scene. He had other things on his mind, like his brother's safety. "Where's Dean?" he demanded, stepping toward Ketch, hoped the Brit recognized the bloody machete in his hand now wasn't just a tool for dispatching vamps if Ketch had let something happen to his brother.

"We split up when we encountered larger than expected vampire numbers," Ketch matter-of-factly stated, like that would make perfect sense to Dean's brother for him to abandon his brother to face his own horde of vampires on his own instead of having his back.

It was exactly why Sam would have strictly forbidden his bother to hunt solo with Ketch. What had he said to Dean when his brother confessed hunting vampires without him "You know better than to fight vampires on your own!" and he hadn't been all that reassured when his brother wouldn't tell him who his mysterious hunting buddy was. Actually felt worse when it turned out to be another vampire, Benny, Dean's BFF from Purgatory. The same rules applied to Dean hunting with the Brit Men of Letters hatchet man, Ketch.

Not liking the parallel of Dean choosing another hunting partner over him, Sam consoled himself with what Alec had said, that Dean went with Ketch to prove himself to the Men of Letters, to protect them from further fallout from his break from them. And speaking of Alec…the transgenic had called him before he came into the motel, had beat him there by fifteen minutes or so. Sam prayed he had found Dean, was with him now.

Course that raised problems of its own. He couldn't have Ketch catch sight of Alec. "Where'd you see Dean last?"

"Second floor," Ketch supplied, a light burning in his eyes at the prospect of more fighting.

"Fine I'll take the second floor, you take the fourth and we'll meet on the third if we haven't found him by then," Sam dictated because, apparently splitting up was to be the watchword of the day.

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Instead of running for the hills at the Alpha's sick interest in him, Alec gloated. "Not to brag or anything, but this happens all the time to me. I guess when you're as exceptional as I am, you have to just accept everyone wants a piece of you." Alec purposefully ignored Dean's bug eyed, 'get out of here' expression.

Seeing that Alec was too busy being honored that the Alpha wanted him to do the sensible thing and run, Dean sought to bring the Alpha's attention back to him. "Honestly, you suck at taking care of the "children" you already have. If Alec was up for offers like yours, _which he isn't_ ," that he shot to Alec who simply shrugged like he was keeping his options open, "there would be better freak leaders to choose from than you. I mean, how many vamps have the Men of Letters killed and you just kicked back in some mansion, sipping blood in Waterford glasses and did not a friggin' thing to stop it. All your children in England, **gone** and you couldn't be bothered to care. And what, you think the rest of your children didn't see that, know the value you don't place on them."

Dean wasn't surprised when the renaissance vamp's fingers tightened around his larynx, cut off his words and his breathing. Knew the vamp didn't want him telling the Alpha about his planned coup, giving away that Dean hadn't just pulled this 'dissention in the ranks' theory out of his butt.

"Father, let's kill them both and give the Men of Letters the message we will kill all their kind like they have killed ours," the renaissance vamp addressed his Father with humbling respect, such a contrast of how he had talked about the Alpha earlier that Dean would have chuckled if was able to do little more than wheeze in breath.

At the renewed threat to Dean, Alec prepared to make his move, hand tightening on the machete still in his hand. Knew with his speed, he was faster than the regular vamps but guessed, the vamp holding Dean, since he had bested Dean, was obviously an upgrade to the foot soldiers and a greater threat. And then there was the Alpha, which was an unknown element. Sam hadn't briefed him on the Alpha but Alec could pretty much guess he was one strong mother but would he go down with a machete blow? That was the unknown.

As if sensing the thoughts in his head, Alec saw Dean miniscule shake of his head, ordering him to stand down. And yeah, that wasn't happening any more than him sitting on his hands today while Dean went off vampire hunting with psycho Brit Ketch. He wasn't expecting the Alpha to step in to save Dean.

Putting a hand on the renaissance vamp's shoulder, the Alpha ordered, "Don't kill him, Henry, we still have things to discuss."

And like a well-heeled dog, Henry dropped his hand from Dean's neck, had to be satisfied at just crushing his arm against Dean's chest to keep the man locked in his hold. But then the human made a gasping sound, knew he was still restricting the weak human's air flow so he loosened even that grip further. Thought the man was probably hamming it up when he made a show of hacking up a cough and inhaling deeply all to make Henry seem rebellious to his Father. _'I will enjoy killing you, human. Nice and slow like I planned. With or without Father's permission to do so.'_

Feeling his own lungs open up now that his fear for Dean lessened marginally, Alec focused on the Alpha and how to get Dean out of there. "Speaking of discussing things…" he began but the Alpha held up a finger and Alec knew enough to heed the Alpha's order for silence.

Instead of dealing with the strange younger, animalist version of Dean Winchester, the Alpha came to stand before the original, didn't seem to have any qualms of putting his back to Alec, like he knew, that Alec should know, that Alec posed absolutely no threat to him. Facing Dean, the Alpha smiled that smile Dean hated. "It's been some years since we last spoke." Over his shoulder to Alec, he called, "Did he tell you we were allies when we last met?" Then his eyes were piercing Dean's with reproach, though his words might have still been for Alec, to cause dissention in his ranks, after all, turn around was fair play. "He changes his allegiances to whatever suits his needs. You would never suspect he once valued one vampire's life as he did his brother's, would you?"

"Benny was the best of your kind!" Dean felt outraged that the Alpha lumped Benny in with his human killing horde he propagated. "He stopped killing humans and started killing your kind."

Sagely the Alpha nodded, "Yes, that is true…after many, many, many years in Purgatory. But then again, you know better than anyone the changes a soul can go through after years of captivity, of agony and fear." Dean stiffened at the Alpha's reference to his time in Hell, that he had become the torturer when he broke. "What you and I both know is that …deep down, our darkest selves lurk, wait for the opportunity to slip their leases, run free again. It's only a matter of time…of circumstances."

Dean's mouth was dry, he couldn't refute the Alpha's claim, not after all he had done, all he had been, like a friggin' demon.

"You don't know him!" Alec indignantly spat, taking a step forward, would go through the vamps in his way to get to the Alpha, to stop his words, to halt the effect he saw them having on Dean.

The Alpha laughed, turned to Alec and smiled like Alec was such an innocent. "Actually, I do know him. He was my child for a brief time, I saw into his soul, tasted it. And it tasted more bitter than my own. So young one, it is you who doesn't know him."

Wanting to stop the Alpha's words, for him to not tell Alec all he had done, the ways he had failed, Dean butted into the conversation. "You do know I'm right here, right? What are we on, Springer? Thought you had more class than his, airing out our issues in front of an audience. I mean, you wouldn't want me to tell all your little followers here how you were captured by mere _humans_ , begged to be free when Crowley had you locked away in his little monster prison." Dean leaned his head back to personally address the vamp that held him. "Henry, let me tell you, it was pathetic. I've seen groveling before, I have, I mean standing ovation groveling but what he did….dude, it was embarrassing. You'd be ashamed of him."

Reading the fury on the Alpha's face, Alec knew the time for talking was over, thanks to Dean's goading, the Alpha was going to rip Dean's head from his shoulders and enjoy it. As the Alpha turned to Dean, Alec made his move, plowed through the vamps in his way like they were bowling pins and then he swung, two handed on the machete, made a clean cut through the Alpha's neck.

Time seemed to stop and no one moved. Everyone was transfixed on the Alpha, on the red thin line of blood across his throat….that disappeared like it never was. Healed so quickly Alec almost doubted he had made the blow. Cursing, he took a step back from the Alpha as the black vampire turned his full attention on him, then took another step back. Hated that it felt like a retreat, was a retreat. "Ok, so….that didn't go as planned," his eyes finding Dean's around the approaching Alpha's looming figure.

"You think! He's the friggin' Alpha. You think we wouldn't have already taken his head if it was that easy?" Dean railed, furious that Alec had incurred the Alpha's rage in a failed kill move, especially after he had worked so hard for the Alpha's full malice to be on him, not Alec.

"Well excuse me! That wasn't in my …what, five minute lesson on 'the art of killing vampires and their sires'?!" Alec snapped back, still retreating backwards, didn't like that the other vamps weren't trying to interfere by even touching him. They knew he was all the Alpha's. Crap he really wished Manticore hadn't drilled into his head the importance of Alphas and how their pack would pick the bones of the prey only after the Alpha had his fill.

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TBC

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Hey, I had to do a mean cliffie sometime in the story!

Thanks for reading and love hearing your thoughts!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	8. All In

Family Resemblance

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural or Dark Angel, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Here's a huge sorry for the time it's been for me to get back to this story! Writers out there know that sometimes you look at a blank page and want to fill it with words, witty dialogue and character interactions but it just remains a blank page because you're not in the right head space to step into the world again. But I never meant to have this story or any story of mine go unfinished and your reviews and PMs and requests for me to continue have gotten me to make a run at this story again. So, I'm back.

It's been a little rough getting into the headspace of Season 12 again….. especially after all the happening this season. So let's recap, Dean feels alone because Sam and especially his Mom have merrily joined the ranks of the Men of Letters. Then low and behold a Men of Letter's assignment leads him to meet his genetic clone, Alec. Now Dean's trying to keep Alec a secret from the Brits and yet not raise their suspicions that he's hiding something. So he agrees to go on a vamp hunt with Ketch…Alec and Sam, thinking that's a lousy idea, race to Dean's side. And by the way, we are not pleased at all with how Mary's tossed her sons aside to be the Men of Letters ace.

Now, at long last, on with our story:

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Chapter 8: All In

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Retrieving the bag that he had left outside the room when he had run in to rescue Ketch, Sam started for the stairs down the hallway at a run, knew that time was against him, not only finding Dean and maybe saving his butt but also coming across Alec before Ketch did. Best possible scenario: Dean and Alec were together and oh yeah, they were both still alive and not turned into vamps.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he forced himself to open the door access to the second floor slowly, with caution, didn't need to draw attention before he knew the situation. Peeking out, he saw the hallways were empty so he slipped out the door and made his way quietly down the hallway to the right, remembering from Mick's presentation the layout of the building showed a ballroom that direction. And Dean would have sought out somewhere he could maneuver and not get boxed in.

It might seem wrong but the quiet vibrating through the hallways wasn't a good thing. Dean was not known to be quiet, eating, sleep and certainly not fighting. He made a racket, plenty of it. And the times he didn't….Sam didn't really want to think about those times because they were the worst of his life. Meant Dean was losing or had already lost. Creeping closer to the ballroom doorway, he finally heard voices. One in particular chilled him to the bone.

"Now you will know what it feels like to helplessly watch your brethren die like we have had to do with your Men of Letters savagery," a man's voice with a British accent sneered. Sam guessed this was directed at either Dean or Alec. Which meant the other one of them was the one being threatened. Silently Sam cursed and he tightened his hand on the machete, was debating if he should instead use what was in his bag when he heard another voice.

"You kill us all day long like we are ants…but _you_ are the ants. Inconsequential, unremarkable, so very very fragile," the Alpha vampire drawled in that civilized menacing tone of his.

Sam closed his eyes in frustrated anguish and fear. The friggin' Alpha vamp. He was there and he was threatening, again, to kill Dean. Because regardless if Dean was the intended target this go around, the vamp would get around to killing Dean too, that had been on the Alpha's to-do list for a few years now.

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Dean so wanted to punch the renaissance vamp in the face for his taunt, wanted more to get free of his grip and take his own run, doomed as it would be, at the Alpha vamp, anything to keep him from Alec. "Alec, you want to help me, you run, right now!" Because Alec was free, wasn't even been herding by the other vamps, and Dean gave him fair odds of eluding the Alpha…if he only did the smart thing and ran.

Alec smirked even as he continued to retreat back at the Alpha's advance. "That sounds boringly smart. I'll pass." Then he didn't run but blurred _toward_ the Alpha, dodged the vamp's swipe at him with his claws and gave him a shove from behind. The Alpha stumbled at the blow and that seemed like a victory, until he turned around snarling like a rabid dog, all fangs and fury. Because apparently getting beheaded was only mildly annoying but getting shoved like you were a weakling on a school yard, that was murderous rage kind of shenanigans.

Waving a finger of eureka at the enraged Alpha, Alec analyzed, "Ok, I see that upset you, more than you already were and we won't go into the red psychological flags that sends up. Instead, let's talk about what would make us both less angry."

"A good meal helps my blood pressure," the Alpha supplied even as he closed in the space between Alec and himself in a blinking of an eye, was reaching for Alec's throat when Alec dropped to the floor, rolled to the right, taking out the legs of the closest vampires. Then Alec was suddenly behind the renaissance vamp, snapped his neck and grabbed Dean, yanking the human behind him like Dean was a vulnerable child he vowed to protect.

Even as Alec thought to throw Dean over his shoulder and make a break for the door behind them, the other vamps reacted, were suddenly behind them, circling them. They obediently parted for the Alpha to break through their ranks and approach their cornered prey.

"That was ill advised at best," the Alpha threatened, now back to his cultured self-important tone, his eyes dropping to Henry on the ground before rising to meet Dean's gaze. "I might have given your …. _pet_ a quick death, Henry now will not. He will want reparations made for the black mark on his honor."

Pushing Alec's arm down from its protective bar against his chest intent on keeping him behind the transgenic, Dean pressed forward to stand even with Alec. "And that's different than his usual practice?" Dean belittled the Alpha's threat about Henry, his top lackey. To Alec he side barred, "Guy was a slow eater, anyways, likes to talk with his mouth full too."

The alpha smiled at Dean and Dean felt his jaw clench at the cold promise in the gesture. "Your deflections haven't changed much over the years. Still cover your fear with words."

"Hey, if it ain't broke…." Dean smart mouthed back, hated a little that the vamp sensed his fear, knew his coping mechanisms. Sheezh he needed new adversaries that didn't know him so well. "But thanks for the heads up on my comebacks getting stale, I appreciate it. I'll work on surprising you with new material the next time we meet."

But the Alpha shook his head, almost sadly. "We've done this dance far longer than we should have. It's just vexing that I'll have to make a separate trip to kill your brother Sam." Enjoyed the tightening in Dean's posture, could see the fear the human tried to bury at the thought of his brother in danger. "I believe he'll be among the Men of Letters when they come here, expecting small numbers and never suspecting my presence. I relish the look on his face when I tell him I watched you die…and your …. _copy_ ," nodding his head to indicate Alec.

"Copy?" Alec repeated the classification like he was tasting the word on his tongue. Shrugged. "Not bad…kinda like it."

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Just outside the door, Sam was waiting for his moment, hoped this was it because it didn't seem likely Dean or Alec could get away with much more of their apparently hereditary brand of snark before the Alpha didn't care who wasted them as long as someone did. But still Sam took the time to peek around the doorway, needed to know Dean and Alec's position. What he saw wasn't good, them circled by vamps with the Alpha marching in for probably the kill. But, in terms of tactical positions for what he was about to do, it seemed like the best.

Wishing he had had even a brief description let alone a demo of how the AVP worked, he didn't know if the reaction was slow or fast, if the vamps, for example, had time to realize they were inhaling death and, just for spite, killed the two hunters in their midst as a last defiance. That was why Sam hadn't dared to throw the device in when the British vamp had Dean in his hold but now, with Alec having freed Dean, well freed him to get circled by all of the vamps but at least so he and Dean could stand back to back, it was as good as it was going to get.

Taking in a few breaths to steady his nerves, Sam made his move. Charging the doorway, he activated the AVP and tossed it as close to the circle of vamps that he could. Immediately white smoke poured from the canister and the vamps bent over choking, clawing at their throats, crawling on the floor trying to escape the toxic cloud. Thankfully Dean and Alec weren't suffering any ill effects of inhaling the stuff and were smart enough to maneuver around the dying vampires to head for Sam's side. Well, Alec leaped over the vampires, Dean shuffled around them with Alec's arm around his waist and they made a fastish pace to Sam. But Sam was running to meet them halfway anyway. Before he could ask Dean if he was alright, noting the blood dripping from his brother's arm and Dean's other arm braced against his ribs, Dean spoke first.

"What'd you do to them?" Dean asked as they watched a moment more as the vampires thrashed on the ground before one after another stilled in death.

"AVP," Sam exhaled in relief. At Dean's raised eyebrow of 'still don't know what you're talking about', Sam clarified, "Probably stands for Anti- Vampire…."

"Perfume?" Alec helpfully supplied, earning glares from both brothers but he was too busy surveying the room to notice. "Ah, the big honcho…he's not here…and neither is the prissy Brit one that was so enamored with you Dean."

"He was not "enamored"," Dean protested before corrected, "I think he liked my moxie."

"And your blood," Alec reminded him as he turned to Dean, could finally focus on the man's injuries instead of how they were both going to get out of the room alive.

But Dean had other concerns now that the flight or fight portion of the day was over, at least for him. Latching onto Alec's shirt, he sputtered, "Crap. Ketch, he's here. Alec, you have to…"

Suddenly there were sounds of a scuffle happening outside the hallway, causing Dean to swing around in time to see Ketch stroll through the doorway, looking like a happy camper, maybe because of the blood splattered on his clothing and person. Dean forgot to breathe, wasn't sure how this was going to go down, if he'd have to end Ketch so he didn't report Alec's existence back to the Men of Letters. He didn't expect the Brit's opening words to be: "Did I miss anything?"

Fighting the urge to turn around, see if Alec was there just using some…invisible animal thing on Ketch, Dean didn't reply. Sam, however, did with nervous words, "No…no, nothing, you missed nothing…unusual.."

Stepping by the Winchesters, Ketch surveyed the carnage. "Ah, the AVP at work. It's a lot less fun but it does the job nicely, I have to admit."

Able to turn around in the rouse of tracking Ketch's movements, Dean saw Alec was nowhere to be seen or unseen. Whatever. He wasn't there. ' _Thank Chuck for Alec's supersonic speed and exceptional hearing_.'

With Alec in the clear, Sam could concentrate on other things, namely being pissed. "Yeah, AVP, and tell me why you two didn't use one?!" This caustic demand Sam directed hotly at Ketch. "Oh, wait…it's was less fun than almost getting killed or turned into a vamp. Boy, you know how to show my brother a good time."

"Sam, it wasn't his fault, not entirely," Dean began, didn't think he'd ever be caught dead defending Ketch but he didn't want Ketch thinking he was going to cower under his little brother's reprimand.

But Sam wouldn't be deterred from his target, stepped into Ketch's personal space. "You're the one with the intel and, what, it slipped your mind to tell Dean there were thirty or more vamps in here **and** the Alpha?!"

"Wait, the Alpha was here?" Ketch shot back, looking convincingly surprised.

"You telling me that you didn't know that?" Sam challenged. "Maybe you wanted to offer Dean up to him as bait while you tried to waste him with the AVP…which doesn't work on him, by the way."

His feathers unruffled by Sam's accusation, Ketch unflappably claimed, "I can say with complete honestly that we did not have any intelligence that the Alpha would be here…or the numbers we would find."

But Sam wasn't buying it, was still coming down from his adrenaline rush and fear for his brother's life. "And I'm supposed to believe you antagonized my brother into this particular hunt by coincidence, not design?"

Instead of defending himself, Ketch smirked and drawled with put upon amusement, "Aahh, now I see." Then he looked over to Dean, tauntingly shared his eureka moment. " _Sam_ is your keeper. I knew it wasn't your mother because, sorry to say, she doesn't give a toss what bad odds you face. Hasn't asked once to know what cases we've sent you on. Least someone assigned themselves your caretaker since you're so very bad at saving yourself."

"Bite me," Dean countered, ignoring the pain the Brit's insight to his mother's indifference caused him. Hated that his remark earned him a smirk from Ketch.

"See, knew we were alike. You and I still haven't had our fill of biting today. I can have us at a werewolf pack by night fall to continue the fun," Ketch offered, wasn't surprised when Sam answered for his brother.

Before Dean could do something stupid and agree to Ketch's taunt, Sam stepped between Dean and Ketch, "Dean's not going anywhere with you."

Looking around Sam's tall figure to Dean, Ketch goaded, "I can see why you jumped at the chance to hunt with me. If it were up to your brother, you'd be boringly safe back in that bunker you nipped from us."

"Nipped?! What's that mean?! The bunker is ours…we're…legacies…" but it sounded lame now when Dean said it, like a school kid defending his kooky family from bullies.

"Ah yes, your claim to fame. What? Legacies from two generations ago. And your grandfather went AWOL after his division were all murdered. Not exactly stellar lineage but the old lads are overlooking this …mar…so it's little consequence to me."

Now it was Sam trying to do the defending, "Our grandfather didn't…"

Dean cut in before Sam revealed more than he should trying to defend their grandfather Winchester. "Whatever happened with our grandfather doesn't change the fact we're legacies. And the bunker, the American's built it…so it has style, class…doesn't look like a caterpillar cocoon on steroids."

Ketch didn't give a defense of his sterile barracks, seemed to tilt his head as if in agreement to Dean's disdain. "Well, this has all been .."

"Jolly fun," Dean supplied with a snarky grin using some of the man's own lame vocabulary back at him.

"I was going to say exhilarating. You are your mother's son, Dean," he declared, holding Dean's gaze, watched as the man gave a minuscule flinch like his words were an insult instead of a compliment.

Sam latched onto Dean's arm, started to pull his brother back from his Brit antagonist. "Come on, let's go home."

"Ah, so I am left cleaning up, how American of you," Ketch called after their retreating forms.

Dean was swerving around to give Ketch a comeback when Sam manhandled him out the door into the hallway. "Dean, forget him. Let's just go."

"I really want to punch him in the face," Dean verbalized the obvious.

"Maybe you should have remembered that before you agreed to hunt with him, solo, Dean! What were you thinking! No, scratch that, you weren't thinking! At all!" Sam shouted, lowly only in deference to Ketch still being in possible hearing distance. Then Sam started walking, was relieved Dean paced him, he wanted to get Dean out of there, now. Not to mention they had to get Alec out of there too. ' _Great now I have another reckless Winchester to keep safe,_ ' unconsciously adding Alec to their family tree and his responsibility to protect.

Dean had a counter for Sam's accusation…but he didn't think Sam would feel better if he said he had been jonsing for a fight and Ketch offered him one. That he was just what Ketch said he was: a killer who needed his fix of bloodletting or things got "ugly."

The brothers startled when Alec super sped out of nowhere to be in front of them. "Not to be all judgy and all but that dude Ketch is a major jerk." Because he had heard his taunts to Dean, ached to do what Dean wanted to: punch the guy in the face, hard. "You really need to be more choosy on picking your friends."

"He's not our friend!" the brothers protected in synch.

Alec smiled at the stereo denial. "I know, just wanted to tick you off."

"Yeah, good idea because I'm in a fabulous mood and needed you to snuff it out before it got contagious," Dean grumbled as Alec flanked him on one side and Sam on the other, both slowing their pace to match his lumbering one because crap everything hurt.

"As far as hunts go, that was pretty intense right?" Alec prompted, needed to know him fearing Dean would get killed and he might not be able to stop it was a rare thing in the hunts to come.

Dean and Sam said in a chorus, "Nnnaahhh…" but they were smirking.

Trouble was, Alec wasn't able to figure out if they were joking or were just so used to living on the edge that it felt normal to them. He pointed to Dean, "A vamp almost had him for a cocktail. I detached a vamp's head and He. Didn't. Flinch. The odds, even with my amazing and unparalleled skills, were not in our favor. That can't be a normal day in the life of a Winchester."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, hated to break it to Alec but it kind of was. Sam took the conciliatory road, "No, it's not like that…on _every_ hunt." He fought back a smirk at Alec's glare.

"You could always go back to the transgenic witness protection program," Dean offered as a taunt but when Alec met his gaze, he saw the apprehension in the so similar eyes, knew that Dean was worried he wanted to bail on them, go back to his old life.

Alec smiled brazenly. "Thought you knew already that I'm not that easy to scare off…or ditch. You feed me, give me a place to sleep," he threw his arm around Dean's shoulder and pulled his adopted brother close and threw an affection look to Sam, "..and I get really attached. I think it's my cat DNA wiring. So suck it up, guys, you're stuck with me for life."

"Dude, all your lectures about strays…and you're the one to bring one home. What a softie," Sam taunted, giving Dean a playful hip bump.

"Hey, I thought you were a stray too when they brought you home from the hospital. Kept asking our parents when we could return you to the dog pound," Dean retorted, winking at Alec.

Laughing, Sam said, "Shut up!" before shooting to Alec, "See what you're going to have to put up with?"

But Alec was too busy beaming with happiness and contentment. If this was what it meant to be a Winchester, heartrending fear, danger to the Nth degree, joyous exhilaration at them all surviving, overpowering love for the two men his DNA tied him to and his heart had adopted, he was all in. Wasn't going anywhere…and was going to make sure that Dean and Sam didn't go anywhere either. Not away from him…or from each other. Would do whatever he had to do to keep his found family together. And he had a feeling it would take every skill and ounce of tenacity that Manicore had seared into him to keep that vow. But that was ok, he was always their star pupil, which, in the past, was a bad thing but if it kept his new world in one piece, he might even end up thanking Colonel Lydecker one day. After all, stranger things had happened…and he was pretty sure Sam and Dean were about to broaden his definition of strange…on every single hunt.

That thought shouldn't have made him smile like a fool but it did. He had a future, and for the first time, he didn't dread what it would hold. Knew that, if Dean and Sam were there with him, no matter what came their way, they'd stand against it together and they were all entirely too stubborn to do something pitiful like lose to anyone or anything that messed with them.

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"Hey there's a great burger place down the road!" Dean excitedly remembered as Sam purposefully steered him away from the driver's seat to the passenger one.

"Dean, you're bleeding and look like an extra from the Walking Dead," Sam pointed out but he was smirking at his brother's one track mind when it came to food. Then he manhandled his brother into the Impala's bench seat, helped him get his legs in because Dean was seriously coming down from his adrenaline high and slipping into wiped out zone fast. Course that didn't mean he didn't want to eat!? "Besides we need to NOT be seen with Alec hanging out at the local diner when the Men of Letter's cleanup crew arrives."

"There's this great invention…it's called take out," Alec supplied with a huge smile standing at Sam's shoulder watching Dean's reaction, which was a big grin.

Dean excitedly wagged his finger at Alec, "Yes!" shot to Sam, "Finally someone who appreciates good food!"

"I appreciate good food..like tofu, vegetables, salads, protein shakes…" Sam listed just to get Dean's goat.

"Alec, don't listen to him, he's trying to entice you to the dark side," Dean cautioned as Sam circled around the car and Alec hopped in the back but slid up to prop his elbows on the front seat.

"Dean, eating food that doesn't kill you by thirty is not going to the dark side," Sam defended, couldn't quite ever forget about that witch turning Dean old and nearly dying of a heart attack.

"It is in my world," Dean retorted. "Come on Alec, back me up here."

"Well, I like lettuce…" Alec began, saw the hope in Sam's eyes and the chagrin in Dean's before he finished, "…on my half pound burger with bacon. I think that covers the two food groups."

"Ha, he's on my side," Dean boasted to Sam.

"Not so fast," Sam cautioned before he looked at Alec in the rearview mirror. "Dean promised to let me teach you good traits…" looked to Dean with a cocky smile, "…like eating your veggies!"

"No, hey, that was a peace offering that I totally didn't mean," Dean denied but Sam crowed, "No, no, no takebacks."

Dean huffed in silence before a brazen smile lite up his features. "Alec, Sam has some amazing hair gel he's going to share with you," Dean countered, remembered that conversation tidbit too. "Bet he'll give you a tutorial on how to use it."

"You do know I'm not five years old, right?!" Alec interjected but he was smiling, wasn't disgruntle at the brothers' argument over who got to influence his choices. "Have already made the big life choices: carnivore vs vegetarian, hair gel vs. mousse, lover vs fighter…well actually I'm both of those, can't help I have enough awesomeness to spread around. It's a burden sometimes but…

"Driving," Dean broke into Alec's boasting. "I can teach you kick ass driving skills…and Sam he'll teach you… how to be a geek."

"Computer skills, hacking," Sam corrected Dean's terminology, shooting a glare at Dean for his description for his very valuable skill set. "Making fake IDs. Tracking phones, video surveillance, accessing FBI records."

Pretending it was an effort to learn everything he could from the two men he had come to revere, Alec sighed, offered supposedly begrudgingly, "Fine I'll be your little Danny LaRusso to your Mr. Miyagi… only if you guys let me teach you something in return."

"What's that?" Sam and Dean said in synch.

"How to keep a low profile. I mean, this car…the lumberjack shirts you guys wear…you might as well have a neon sign on you saying, 'bad asses, beware'," finding it hard to hold back his grin, knowing the reaction he would get.

"And that's a bad thing?!" Dean countered while Sam protested, "What's wrong with my shirts?!"

Alec put a hand on their shoulders and smirked, "Guess we all have our Mr. Miyagi work cut out for us." And boy was he going to enjoy it.

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The end?

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Thank you to anyone who decided to read this update! I'm honestly not sure if I will devote more time to this story (especially since I lost some of my notes /writings of where I wanted it to go! Grumble grumble grumble). But it's been a wonderful adventure with the support you've given it. Thanks for that!

And I'm certainly not opposed to doing one shot continuations if the muse hits me and you all want them.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


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